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/ 

CRITERION 

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No. 12 


so Cents 


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A Daughter 

of Delilah 


A NOVEL 


BY 

ROBERT LEE TYLER 


NEW YORK 

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25 TO 31 Rose Street 


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A DAUGHTER OF DELILAH. 


By ROBERT LEE TYLER. 

« 


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FOE. SALE EVERYWHERE 


A DAUGHTER OF DELILAH. 


BY 


/ 


ROBERT LEE TYLER. 

M 



NEW YORK: 

STREET & SMITH PUBLISHERS, 

•>49 Rose Street. 


Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1896. 

By Street & Smith, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C 


oO^c. / / 


M ! -V 




' CONTENTS. 


BOOK ONE. *. 

THE SIREN DANSETJSE. 


CHAPTER. PAGE. 

1. — A False Telegram 7 

II. — In the Tunnel 16 

III. — “Gilbert Eoseberry, You Are My Prisoner !” 27 

IV. — “Love That Hath Us In The Net !” 39 

V. — The Temptress At Work 50 

VI.— In The Meshes Gf The Siren 62 


BOOK TWO. 

LORD ST. LEONARDS. 


VII. — The Tongue of The Temptress 72 

VIII. — A Lively Scheme 84 

IX. — “I Mu.st Buy The Painted Jezebel !” 92 

X. — St. Leonards’ Fine Hand IO9 

XL — “Think of Isabel!” 123 


BOOK THREE. 

HER LAST VICTIM. 


XII.— “The Notes Were Made By Me I” 136 

XIII. — Edward Hawley’s Trouble 15(> 

XIV. — Edgar Alston’s Better Side 161 

XV. — Disaster For Detective Hawkley I74 

XVI. — No. 33 Hawthorne Avenue, Eidgeway, N. J I8I 

XVII. — A Father’s Threat I89 

XVIII. — Eun To Earth 198 

XIX.— The Last of The Siren 209 


T- -j,n ■■ -f 


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^ fo3:.r. \h7ti 



-I 



A DAUGHTER OF DELILAH. 


BOOK ONE. 

THE SIREN DANSEUSE, 


CHAPTER I. 


A FALSE TELEGRAM. 

It was a clear, crisp, February night. There was no 
moon, but the sky was filled with stars, amber, pale-blue 
and deep-gold; beautiful stars that flashed a mellow 
radiance over all the purple dome. The air was keen and 
cold, and the earth as hard as a rock under the magical 
touch of its biting breath. 

Within an arrow-shot of Bridgley depot, and in the 
shadow of the echoing woods, a young man was singing a 
bacchanalian song, his full baritone voice rising and falling 
in graceful undulations of perfect melody. 

“Wreathe the bowl with flowers of soul, 

The brightest Wit can find us ; 

We’ll take a flight toward heaven to-night, 

And leave dull earth behind us ! 

Should Love amid the wreaths be hid, 

That Jo3% the enchanter, brings us. 

No danger fear while wdne is near. 

We’ll drown him if he stings us ; 


8 A FALSE TELEGEAM. 

Then, wreathe the bowl with flowers of soul, 

The brightest Wit can find us. 

We’ll take a flight toward heaven to-night, 

And leave dull earth behind us ! 

“’Twas nectar fed of old, ’tis said. 

Their Junos, Joves, Apollos ; 

And man may brew his nectar, too. 

The rich receipt’s as follows : 

Take wine like this, let looks of bliss 
Around it well be blended. 

Then bring Wit’s beam to warm the stream. 

And there’s your nectar, splendid ! 

So wreathe the bowl with flowers of soul, 

I’he brightest Wit can find us ; 

We’ll take a flight toward heaven to-night. 

And leave dull earth behind us !’' 

He stopped singing, and looked half doubtfully at the 
glimmering lights of the station; then, as though re- 
assured, exclaimed: 

“Yes, this is it. No train yet for half an hour, anyway. 
I’ve had enough of the ambrosial nectar of the gods, and 
at this moment could do with something a little more 
solid. ” 

He shivered in the cold night air, for over an immac- 
ulate evening attire he only wore a light-gray waterproof, 
and his crushed hat was very much crushed indeed. 

“Cursed piece of trickery!” he muttered, wrathfully, as 
he crunched a telegram between his powerful fingers. “I 
can appreciate a joke, but if I find out who has perpetrated 
this ” 

He broke into. a laugh. 

“Of course it could not be Hawley. Absurd to connect 
him with such buffoonery ! Now, I wonder what my sedate 
old dad would think if he knew of the latest escapade of 
his elegant son and heir, Edgar Alston!” 

He laughed again, and ran lightly up the steps to the 
station, the flame from a large oil-lamp revealing the 


A FALSE TELEGKAM. 


9 


figure of a fine-looking young fellow, tall, straight, and 
handsome. The eyes were dark and brilliant, a little too 
brilliant, perhaps j the face was regular in its outline, but 
the classical beauty was half lost by the strong evidence 
in every feature of self-indulgence. The delicate curves 
round the severely straight nose were too deep for a man 
of eight-and-twenty, and to-night Edgar Alston’s face 
wore that unmistakable flush that is neither the glow of 
health nor exercise. He had been drinking wine rather 
freely at a countryside hotel a mile or so from Bridgley. 

“How long have I to wait for the next train to Cincin- 
nati?” he said, thrusting his head into the ticket-office. 

“Last train gone, sir,” replied the station-agent, locking 
his desk and shutting down the light in the office. 

“But I must get there to-night, at once!” Edgar cried. 
“Hang it, man, what am I to do? I was told that there 
was a train at ten o’clock.” 

“Then you were told wrong,” was the answer of the im- 
perturbable station-agent. This was not the first time that 
he had seen a man angry at losing a train. 

He walked out of his office, slammed to the door, and 
waited, jingling a bunch of keys. 

“I must get to Cincinnati to-night,” Edgar went on. 
“Isn’t there a carriage to be hired — or — or — anything?” 

“No, sir; we have no use for such things at Bridgley. 
Pardon me, I’m just locking up. See here,” he added, 
“your only plan is to walk to Covington, and it’s easy 
enough to get to Cincinnati from there. You had better 
follow the track and go through the tunnel. Are you 
afraid of tunnels?” 

“I’m afraid of nothing/’ was the quick retort. 


10 


A FALSE TELEGRAM. 


“Well, the tunnel is half a mile through, and I don’t 
mind if I loan you a lantern. Give it up at Covington, and 
it’ll get hack to me all right. You can take this one. ’’ He 
pointed to a lantern standing against the wall. “And keep 
on the right-hand track ! There’s nothing behind you until 
eleven o’clock,” he went on, consulting his watch, “but an 
express leaves Covington in twenty minutes. Don’t get in 
her way, sir!” 

Alston laughed lightly. 

“I am much obliged to you,” he said, snatching up the 
lantern, “and you need have no fear for me. My nerves are 
well steeled! I’ll give this up at the Covington depot, and 
tell the agent to send it back to you. I won’t forget your 
kindness in a hurry! I would face the devil himself, and 
all the lesser imps, rather than fail to get back to Cincin- 
nati to-night.” 

He nodded brightly, and turned away, singing to him- 
self the refrain of his late song: 

“So wreathe the bowl with flowers of soul, 

The brightest Wit can find us ; 

We ll take a flight toward heaven to-night, 

And leave dull earth behind us !” 

“The right-hand track!” called the station-agent, watch- 
ing Alston’s tall figure. The light in the lantern swayed 
and dickered as he moved onward, and the huge shadow 
that fiuttered after him looked like a grotesque giant from 
the lower regions. 

“He isn’t exactly sober,” the station-agent thought, 
“and maybe I’ve done wrong in putting him onto this 
racket. Well, I suppose that these sporty young bloods 
will have their day, and he’ll be safe in the tunnel from 
tramps, anyway. A New Yorker, every inch of him. I’ll 
wager!” 


A FALSE TELEGKAM. 


11 


In answer to the man’s last cry of caution, Edgar Alston 
waved the lantern. He quite understood the danger, and 
not one man in a hundred would have faced a black tunnel 
at any time, much less at night. 

“If this is taking a flight toward heaven, ” he thought, 
grimly, “the way is much darker than we are taught to 
believe! I have followed the track out West for a hundred 
miles at a stretch, but I never remember facing a tunnel 
more than a hundred yards through. ” 

He burst into song again, and his rapid movements sent 
a warm glow through every vein. He felt the wine in his 
blood, in his heart, in his head. His perceptions were 
blurred, but he was utterly insensible to fear. 

He looked behind, and the station lights glimmered like 
glow-worms. Before him was a mountain of rocks, above 
which a young moon was just rising, and at the same mo- 
ment he plunged into a cutting whose iron-clamped walls 
were as black as ebony. 

“We’ll take a flight toward heaven to night, 

And leave dull earth behind us !” 

Alston murmured. 

“By Jove! This looks more like taking a trip to in- 
ferno!” he added, with a laugh that was thrown back 
from the black walls, and the blacker gulf beyond, in many 
solemn echoes. 

He set down the lantern to button his coat tightly about 
him, for the mouth of the tunnel seemed to vomit forth a 
blast as cold as ice. 

“One more look at that idiotic telegram,” he muttered, 
drawing from his pocket a piece of crumpled paper, and 
spreading it out on his knee. “Surely, I made no mistake! 
What on earth will my sister Minnie think? And as for 


12 


A FALSE TELEGKAM. 


my respected aunt, she has already gone through every 
known stage of hysterics! No matter; I can explain all 
when I get home. What the devil brings me out of civil- 
ization I can’t understand! But I suppose every fellow 
who has a rich aunt is forced into purgatory occasionally. ” 

He glanced at the telegram, which he had no difficulty 
in deciphering, for the contents had already eaten into his 
brain in letters of fire. 

“Edgar Alston, Esq., care of Mrs. Kadcliffe, Bellevue 
avenue, Cincinnati: — Go to the Stars and Stripes Hotel, 
Bridgley, at once. This is a matter of life and death. You 
are only an hour’s journey away. Let nothing detain you, 
or it will cause you and me life-long regret. Isabel. ’ ’ 

This precious missive had been dispatched from a New 
York up-town office, and the name attached was that of 
the loveliest houri who ever sang before the foot-lights — a 
paradisean nymph, whose word or glance had power suffi- 
cient to send Edgar Alston into throes of ecstasy or de- 
spair. 

“No,” decided Alston. “Queenie never sent that thing.” 

Queenie was the pet name of the new prima-donna, the 
fairy danseuse, whose grace of form, whose witching eyes, 
had enslaved a good score of New York’s wealthiest young 
men. 

“No, Queenie never sent that thing. It is an infernal 
hoax, and if I discover the perpetrator, by the Eternal! he 
shall know what it is to quarrel with Edgar Alston!” 

His eyes flashed ominously, and more than one oath 
dropped from his lips. 

“And her name to be used, too! Of course, I cannot 
show the telegram to Minnie. She would want to know all 
about Isabel, and would at once tumble to the fact that 
there must be some all-potent power in the dear name to 


A FALSE TELEGRAM. 


13 


drag a fellow miles from home on a night like this, attired 
as I am! What a wild-goose chase! By Jove! I shall 
have to put my inventive faculties to work ! Any stuff 
would do for my aunt, bless her innocent soul ! But Minnie 
isn’t to be cajoled quite so easily!” 

In obedience to the command — the entreaty — contained 
in the telegram, he had hastened to Bridgley, without 
waiting to make a reasonable explanation to either his 
aunt or sister. The potent name of Isabel utterly effaced 
them, and it only occurred to him now how bitter would 
be their disappointment at losing an escort who had en- 
gaged a box at the opera for them that very day. This, 
however, might be partially, if not wholly, allayed by 
their anxiety concerning his eccentric behavior. 

He had hastened to Bridgley, and having a smart 
tongue in his head, was not long in finding that there in- 
deed was such a place as the Stars and Stripes Hotel. It 
was situated a good mile from the station, amidst a wild 
bit of country, and Edgar had been effusively welcomed 
by the proprietor, for business at this period of the year 
was notoriously slow. In his sanguine heart he hoped that 
the young gentleman might be the advance guard of an aris- 
tocratic party who had tired of the glamours of the town. 

But he was soon undeceived by being permitted to read 
the telegram, while Alston kept the name of Isabel care- 
fully covered. 

“I have no idea what it means, sir,” he said, dubiously; 
“but,” with rising hope, “it is very likely— indeed, it is 
certain— that somebody intends to meet you here, and I 
am sure that I can make you comfortable for any length 
of time.” 


14 


A FALSE TELEGEAM. 


“Perhaps Queenie herself is coming!” was the thought 
that flashed through Alston’s mind, and a burning, happy 
thrill made his heart bound. “If she is in trouble, I will 
risk my immortal soul to help her!” 

He called for wine, to which he helped himself freely, 
and dreamed happy dreams of the woman who had be- 
witched his very being. 

Then he became impatient. Why had he not taken the 
precaution to telegraph in reply to Isabel’s message? Two 
hours passed, and he half staggered to his feet, but the 
wine had made him hilarious. 

“I must return to my friends in Cincinnati, ” he told the 
landlord. “Here is my address, if any one comes to meet 
me. Telegraph me at once, and I will repay you. It may 
be a pleasant hoax on the part of some fellows in New 
York,” he added, “and I shall have to get level with 
them !” 

He went away with a good deal of devilment in his 
heart, but it was soon forgotten under the generous in- 
fluence of the wine he had imbibed. He sang many songs 
by the lonely way, and some of them would have brought a 
blush to beauty’s cheek. He had picked them up during wild 
midnight orgies in an underground slum not a stone’s throw 
from Madison Square Garden; ugly ditties paraphrased 
from the wanton rubbish which the habitue of the music 
hall considered delectable fare, when trilled from the lips 
of some painted and shameless jade under the glitter of a 
thousand lights — under the glamour of spangle and sheen, 
to the strains of voluptuous music, which was ever wel- 
come to the senses of the lewd. 

He thought of Isabel Russell, and his tongue was em- 


A FALSE TELEGRAM. 


15 


ployed by loftier themes. He believed in the goodness and 
purity of this woman as devoutly as in the virtue of the 
angels. He worshiped her far beyond his own salvation, 
and yet, accursed fate! — he was forced to meet her in 
secret. He was but a useless dependent upon a father as 
rich as Croesus, a father who showered money upon him 
with a lavish hand, who was perhaps indulgent beyond 
reason, where his handsome son’s petty vices were con- 
cerned, but who could be as hard and unyielding as a rock 
when he chose. 

“Edgar,” he had said, “when you are sated with the 
follies of youth, I will unfold my views for your future. I 
am a rich man, the architect of my own fortunes, a mag- 
nate, a Caesar, if you will, whose word is enough to thrill 
the whole financial world. I am a proud man — I am an 
ambitious man, and have dreams of a title for your sister 
— an alliance for yourself with some noble family. My 
money will buy these things. Remember, I can forgive 
anything but entanglements with low women!” 

Edgar thought of these words now and shivered. He had 
treated them lightly at the time, but to-night they rang in 
his ears like the knell of doom. 


16 


IN THE TUNNEL. 


CHAPTER n. 

IN THE TUNNEL. 

The black mouth of the tunnel yawned before him, and 
there was a melancholy sound in the wind that gushed 
from its cavernous depths. On either side the giant rocks 
piled a hundred feet in the air, their frosted summits 
gleaming brightly in the starlight. Below everything was 
black, but the two tracks of shining steel rails that seemed 
to vanish in the tunnel’s awful abyss, over which rested a 
million tons of earth. The scene was Dantesque, and 
though Alston was not blessed, or cursed, with the most 
vivid imagination, he fancied that a hundred shadowy and 
grotesque creatures of the evil world were rushing forth 
to warn him back, only to quickly dissolve in the clear, 
cold air. 

“Merely the smoke from the last engine being driven 
out,” he soliloquized, “and the light playing upon it 
makes fantastic shadows. The sulphurous odor proves that. 
Well, here goes!” 

He plunged into the inky darkness, and it seemed that 
the wind there had redoubled force and keenness. 

“The right-hand track! I must remember that,” he 
growled, after stumbling along for five minutes. “At 
best, this is a fool-hardy piece of work!” 

He flashed his lantern at the reeking walls, and they 
glistened dully in the faint light. Now and again would 


IN THE TUNNEL. 


17 


be heard the scurrying of some frightened rat, and it was 
with a feeling of intense relief that he came upon an em- 
brasure, that shielded him from the cutting blast. 

“An express train from Covington in twenty minutes, “ 
he thought, remembering the station-agent’s words. 
“Well, if it is on time it will be here soon, and then for a 
little more smoke and sulphur.” 

He pushed onward, for the sense of loneliness was aw- 
ful, then uttered an exclamation of rage and dismay. He 
had stepped into a hole, and fallen with the lantern 
underneath him. He was in utter darkness now, and be- 
gan to grope his way by keeping his right hand in constant 
contact with the wall. 

“Half a mile through! I should think that I am very 
near to the other end, ” he muttered. “And yet I see no 
outlet — not the faintest sign of one.” 

He turned his back to the onrushing wind for a mo- 
ment, but suddenly started round again. 

Hark! was not that the far-away whistle of a train? 
The hoarse scream burst upon his ears like a thunder- 
crash ! The express had just entered the tunnel ! The rails 
quivered like living things, and the earth rocked until ho 
half feared that the tunnel would collapse about him. 

A great red eye evolved from the blackness, and swept 
forward, followed by the noise of many thunders. He 
watched it with a fascination that was almost fatal. He 
saw only this, and two glowing shadows that encom- 
passed it like mighty wings. 

“My God!” he groaned. “It is heading straight for me! 
It will bear me down ! Keep to the right!” He clutched at 
the slimy walls. “lam to the right — I am on the down 


18 


IN THE TUNNEL. 


track, but that infernal monster fills up every inch of 
space!” 

On it came with a snort, a shriek, and a roar, with a 
noise that all the unloosed demons of the infernal regions 
would fail to imitate. The earth trembled, the rails gleamed 
before the savage eye of fire like writhing, molten snakes, 
and Alston flung himself to the earth in a frenzy of fear, 
as the monster swept along. He saw the open jaws of a 
roaring furnace, from whose lurid depths was flung a glow 
that girdled the tunnel round — that shone on the faces of 
two men — the engineer and the fireman — who looked like 
exultant, grimy fiends as they flashed by. 

In thirty seconds^ the express was gone. Its mocking 
screams were half a mile away, and Edgar Alston was 
upon the point of scrambling to his feet again when he 
was astounded by the sound of a human voice ! 

“Keep still, sir, if you value your life!” were the words 
that rang in his ears. 

“Who the devil may you be?” demanded Alston. 

“Never mind who I am, ” was the savage retort. “Let 
it be sufficient that I have you covered with a six-shooter, 
which I shall use unless you are willing to listen to reason. 
Hold there, blast you ! I can hear you fumbling for a 
light, and, by the living God, ITl shoot you dead if you 
strike a match! You are at my mercy, and this is the 
chance of my life ! I am a fool to run any risks, when I 
have only to touch the trigger to put an end to all doubts 
and fears! No one can interfere, and your body would be 
cleaned away by the rats long before ” 

“You need not conjure up all the horrors of your pleas- 
ant imagination,” Alston coolly interrupted. “I am sitting 


IN THE TUNNEL 


19 


perfectly still, and being unarmed, I am quite at your 
mercy. I confess that I did feel in my pockets for a match, 
but no such commodity is at hand. Even if I had one, I 
would respect your wishes under the circumstances — be- 
cause you have me at a disadvantage. ” 

There was a hoarse laugh in response. 

“Now, my good friend,” continued Alston, “as I am 
reclining in a puddle of mud, will you kindly tell me your 
wishes? I do not care to remain here one moment longer 
than is necessary. ” 

“You swear that you are unarmed?” 

“I do, most solemnly. You have free permission to make 
a search, and if you find anything more formidable than a 
penknife, I give you the right to shoot.” 

“I am satisfied. I have the word of a gentleman,” said 
the voice in the gloom. “Now jump up, and I will let you 
know what I want. ’ ’ 

Edgar obeyed. 

“Your name?” demanded the strange assailant. 

“Edgar Alston, of New York,” with mock politeness.' 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I wished to reach Cincinnati to-night, and there "was 
no train from Bridgley, so I elected to walk. What next, 
my Grand Inquisitor?” 

The man breathed a sigh of relief. 

“I am glad that I did not kill you,” he said, at length. 
“Do you know, sir, that I lay for several minutes waiting 
for you? I thought that you were a blood-hound on my 
track ! I crouched here like a tiger, ready to launch you 
into eternity! I waited till the engine passed, and the 
glow from the furnace revealed you to me. I leveled my 


20 


IN THE TUNNEL. 


pistol, I pulled the trigger, hut • it snapped fire ! In that 
brief moment your face was photographed into my soul ; 
hut, God be thanked, I am not a murderer!” 

Alston could not resist a smile. 

“Now, if we had a light on the scene, ” he said, “I should 
imagine that the effect would he highly melodramatic!” 

“It would mean your death!” was the harsh rejoinder. 
“Listen, sir! I am a fugitive fieeing from justice — or what 
the accursed law calls justice. I have been in hiding here 
for thirty-six hours, never dreaming of a chance like this 
to effect my escape — to throw the blood-hounds off my 
track.” 

“Well?” demand^ Alston, for his companion had 
paused. “I have no wish to ” 

“Silence, sir! These are my wishes — my commands; 
You must disrobe at once. Wo are going to exchange 
clothing, and you know, sir, that a fair exchange is no 
robbery!” 

He laughed exultantly, adding ; 

“Quick! quick! There is no time to lose. If you value 
your clothes they shall be returned to you ; I promise you 
that. And you must loan me a little money. Every cent 
shall be sent to you within a week. ” 

“I suppose that I have no choice but to obey,” grumbled 
Edgar, “considering that I am at the wrong end of a six- 
shooter! You won’t deprive me of my overcoat, will you?” 

“No; I shall not need it, and you will!” 

A hoarse laugh followed this significant reply. 

“lam sure that I shall be your eternal debtor,” pro- 
ceeded the man; “and some day maybe able to repay your 
kindness. You have released me from a most trying 


IN THE TUNNEL. 


21 


dilemma, sir. Thanks for the trousers ; they fit capitally. 
We must he much of a size. I hope that mine will he as 
comfortable, though they are scarcely of such fine material 
as those you have so kindly lent me. Pardon me, hut I be- 
lieve that I am attired in evening dress? Always very 
becoming to a man of good stature ! Vest and coat fit w'ell, 
too! Your hat, please. I am sorry that I have nothing to 
give you in exchange, but I have lost mine. I hope, sir, 
that you feel as comfortable as I do!” 

“You are most kind to leave me the overcoat, ” Edgar 
rejoined, ironically. “I think that you want a little 
money. I have retained my pocket-book and my watch 
and chain. Do you demand these?” 

“By no means,” was the courteous and quick reply; 
“but I shall esteem it a favor if you will let me have, say 
fifteen or twenty dollars.” 

'“Impossible to say what I am giving you. Here are half 
a dozen bills, and I know that some of them are fives.” 

“Thank you; I will return the amount in full if you will 
give me your address.” 

“It does not signify,” Alston said. 

“Nay, sir, I insist!” 

“Address me at my club, the Athenian, Fifth avenue, 
New York,” Edgar replied, with a dry laugh. 

“I shall not forget, and I shall be eternally grateful to 
you, Mr. Alston. By the way, you will not think it unkind 
if I ask you to say as little as you can concerning this ad- 
venture? I am sure that I can depend upon the honor of a 
gentleman. It would be extremely awkward for me if the 
story reached the police before I could effect another 
change.” 


22 


IN THE TUNNEL. 


“I do not think that I shall have any inclination to boast 
about this night’s work,” was the half-savage retort. 
“Well, I will wish you good-night.” 

“Good-night, Mr. Alston, good-night. I shall go to 
Bridgley, while you continue your way to Covington. 
One word of warning. Keep your overcoat well wrapped 
about you. It hides a multitude of wickedness. And I 
would advise you also to hire a cab in Covington, and 
drive across the bridge home. Your appearance might ex- 
cite the curiosity of some policeman anxious to distinguish 
himself, and I have no desire for one so obliging to spend 
the night in a cell. ’ ’ 

Alston did not wait to hear more, but turned savagely 
on his heel. He half regretted that he had not defied the 
robber. He was disgusted with himself, for being so easily 
fooled and frightened — yes, he was forced to confess it — 
he had been frightened. 

“My nerves were completely upset,” he told himself. 
“It is horrible to be assailed by what one cannot see. And 
yet, if I have done the poor devil a good turn, I shall be 
the last to regret it. ” 

He paused an instant to listen. Were those footsteps be- 
hind him? No! There was no sound but the mournful 
rush of the wind. 

He strove to pierce the gloom, and looked steadily for- 
ward. The air was now purer and sweeter ; and at last 
there appeared a tiny globe of shadowy gray, that might 
have been fifty or five hundred yards distant. His heart 
bounded with gladness ; at last, he was nearing the mouth 
of the tunnel ! 

In a few minutes the globe assumed a clearly defined 


IN THE TUNNEL. 


23 


arch, lights twinkled beyond, and Edgar Alston dashed 
into the open air with a shout of thankfulness. Above 
him, a million stars were flashing in a purple sky, and the 
young moon glittered like a jeweled crescent. 

“I would not again suffer a like experience for all the 
wealth of Wall street, ’* he thought. “I have faced a savage 
bear single-handed, and been surrounded by a prairie fire ; 
but found real enjoyment in such adventures, compared 
with the fun of the past half hour. By Jove! I wonder what 
the boys would say if they knew that I had been held up 
by one man? Robbed of my purse, and 'even my clothing, 
without offering any resistance! By the Eternal!” he 
added, wrathfully, “I must have been unnerved to submit 
to it ! Still, what was a fellow to do, similarly placed? I 
would like to meet the infernal scoundrel in the light of 
day!” 

He glanced down at his feet involuntarily, and a cry of 
disgust and alarm escaped him. He caught sight of the 
trousers he was wearing ; he flung open his coat — yes, the 
pattern was the same ! He was attired in the garb of a 
convict ! 

Mr. Edgar Alston, the son of one of New York’s greatest 
financiers, the prospective heir to that financier’s enor- 
mous wealth, and in consequence the pet of the starchiest 
matrons who moved in the inner circle of the orbit of the 
premier city’s most select society — Mr. Edgar Alston in a 
plight like this ! 

He leaned against a telegraph pole, completely over- 
come. He might be arrested at any time for an escaped 
convict, and then the whole of the humiliating story would 
have to be told. It would go the round of the clubs, and 


24 


IN THE TUNNEL. 


the name of Isabel Russell would be sure to leak out ! 
How could he avoid the swarm of reporters who would be 
certain to run him, and his miserable story, to earth? 

“My duty is clear,” he muttered. “I ought to hurry to 
the nearest police station, and be laughed at ! The copvict 
would be caught, for he has not had time to get far away, 

and ” He paused and gritted his teeth, adding : “No, 

it shall never be known to a living soul ! Let the poor 
devil go!” 

He buttoned his coat tightly about him, and rolled up 
the trousers at the bottoms to a ridiculous height. Then, 
assured that little of his convict attire could be seen, he 
started at a quick pace tow^ard the railway station, whose 
lights glimmered brightly not half a mile away. 

When within a stone’s throw of the station, he left the 
track, and hurried in the direction of a carriage stand, 
where his hatless head and general appearance of disorder 
enlisted the sympathies of a friendly policeman. 

“Lost your hat, sir?” the man queried. 

“Yes, it blew off,” Alston replied, readily. “I have 
walked from Bridgley. Was obliged to get back to Cin- 
cinnati to-night, and no confounded train. I shall complete 
my journey in a carriage. Order one, will you, please?” 

The policeman shouted to one of the hackmen, while 
Alston turned aside to take a douceur from his pocket- 
book with which to sop the officer’s curiosity. 

In two minutes he was seated in the carriage, having 
peremptorily stopped the hackman’s argument concerning 
the lateness of the hour, and the length of a journey which 
would take him far out of his usual course, by thrusting a 
ten-dollar bill into his eager hands. 


IN THE TUNNEL. 


25 


“It’ll soon be midnight, sir, and we are due back at the 
stables at twelve,” he said, apologetically, and wishing 
devoutly that the money had been given to him anywhere 
but under the keen eye of the policeman. 

“Mrs. Kadcliffe, Bellevue avenue, Cincinnati,” shouted 
Edgar. “Now then, hurry up!” 

The hackman gathered up his lines, the policeman called 
“Good-night, sir,” and the carriage rumbled a'way. 

Until it was lost to sight the ofiQcer regarded it thought- 
fully. Then he drew out his note-book, and carefully pen- 
ciled down the address he had heard Edgar Alston give to 
the hackman. 

“He’s been on 'some racket,” murmured the man. 
“Where the duse has his hat gone to? Blow^ed off, eh? A 
likely story such a night as this ! Tall, dark, and a proper 
chap for the girls ! A real swell, too ! Gray w^aterproof , and 
trousers rolled up as though he’d been in a swamp. No 
hat! That completes my inventory. No doubt he takes me 
for a common, thick-headed cop! Nothing of the kind, sir! 
I am Detective Nathaniel Hawkley, and if it wasn’t for 
missing my game, I’d keep you in sight.” 

He paused, and suddenly clapped his hand to his fore- 
head. 

“By Heaven! I have it!” he ejaculated. “It may be Gil- 
bert Roseberry himself ! He is the cleverest criminal on 
earth, but he sha’n’t hoodwink Nat Hawkley! But the 
description? Roseberry is fair !” 

He was puzzled for a moment, then went on : 

“What is easier than for that villain, with all his knowl- 
edge of stage-craft, to disguise himself? Under that coat 


26 


IN THE TUNNEL. 


is a convict suit, and inside the convict suit is Gil Rose- 
berry !” 

He quickly selected the best horse in the stand, and 
ordered the driver to take him to : 

“Mrs. Radcliffe, Bellevue avenue, Cincinnati!’* 


“GILBERT ROSEBERRY, YOU ARE MY PRISONER!” 27 


CHAPTER III. 

“gilbert ROSEBERRY, YOU ARE MY PRISONER!” 

“A kicky escape!” muttered Alston, when the carriage 
was crawling across the bridge over the Ohio River. 
“Now for some story to tell my Aunt Radclitfe, and 
Minnie! But how the duse am I to evade their sharp eyes? 
I must go indoors quietly, and tell one of the servants to 
say that I have gone to my room for five minutes to change 
my shoes, or something of the kind. Then the rest will he 
comparatively easy ! ” 

These thoughts were somewhat exhilarating after his 
many unpleasant adventures, and he fell to thinking of 
Isabel Russell, and her indignation, when she heard how 
cruelly he had been hoaxed in her name. 

“It is a cowardly trick,” he thought, “whoever may be 
guilty of it.” 

But who could be the guilty person? He began to feel 
very uncomfortable, and to grow hot and cold by turns. 
Now that his head was clearing, he began to see that there 
was an ugly mystery surrounding the affair. If Queenie 
had not sent the telegram, the secret of his blind passion 
for her was known to another — to one who would perhaps 
make trouble between them. So far his only confidant was 
an old college chum, Edward Hawley, who was too honor- 
able to resort to any stupid nonsense of this kind. 

“I am not dolt enough to be blind to the fact that there 


28 “GILBEET EOSEBEKRY, YOU ARE MY PRISONER !” 

is something behind this devilishly queer, ” he growled. 
“And I’ll return to New York to-morrow, and find out 
what it is.” 

The carriage stopped with a jerk, and the driver bawled: 

“Bellevue avenue, sir. What number?” 

“I will alight here!” announced Alston, adding, to him- 
self. “Happy thought! If Minnie is watching for my re- 
turn, the sound of carriage wheels would betray me. ’ ’ 

He dismissed the driver, and walked rapidly until he 
came to a large brick house, surrounded by lawns and 
ornamental flower beds, wdiich occupied an entire block. 

Running lightly up the broad steps that led to a noble 
veranda, he crept with the stealthiness of a thief into the 
handsome vestibule, that formed a kind of antechamber 
to the hall beyond. 

Through the upper half of the great oaken doors, which 
were tastefully paneled with stained glass, Alston saw a 
couple of servants moving idly to and fro, and gently 
tapped the door with the tips of his fingers. 

“Curse them for a pair of fools!” he growled, under his 
breath. “They evidently imagine that I am a burglar by 
the terror exhibited in their senseless faces. If I touch the 
electric bell, of course Minnie and my aunt will be at once 
upon the scene!” 

He rapped the door sharply with his knuckles, and the 
effect was almost electrical, both seiwant-men making a 
bee-line for the kitchen in search of weapons of defense. 

Alston’s only resource now was to ring the electric bell, 
and within ten seconds the door was being unlocked and 
unbarred by his anxious sister. 

The moment it was opened, Edgar darted inside, saying ; 


“GILBERT ROSEBERRY, YOU ARE MY PRISONER!” 29 

“If you love me, Minnie, do not let my aunt and the 
servants see me for ten minutes, anyway ! I will tell you 
everything. I have been hoaxed. ” 

As he fled up stairs, she looked after him half-douht- 
fully, and a look of terror came into her eyes when she 
saw the pattern of his nether garments. What folly had he 
been guilty of now? What did he mean by being hoaxed? 

At that moment a stern-faced, elderly lady appeared at 
the door of a drawing-room, her looks expressive of the 
most severe displeasure. 

“So the truant is hack?” she said. “What excuse has he 
to oiler for his abominable conduct? I never passed so 
anxious a time in my life. I have been bitterly disap- 
Ijointed and grossly insulted, and shall make a point of 
informing your father all about it. I am almost of opinion 
that Edgar is not responsible for his actions. The slight is 
either intentional, or his mind is demented.” 

“Edgar will explain presently, aunt,” Minnie replied, 
gently. “And I am sure that you will not worry papa by 
mentioning one word of this affair.” 

Minnie Alston was a handsome, dark-eyed girl of twenty- 
two summers — one of Gotham’s fairest maids! Her figure 
was as x)erfect as that of a sylph, her movements as grace- 
ful as though made to rhythmical music. The face w’as 
almost Southern in its dark beauty, but in her lustrous 
eyes was a soft light, seldom seen in the orbs of the pas- 
sionate daughters of the South. Minnie Alston was a 
loving, true-hearted girl, and one of her greatest anxieties 
for months past had been to shield her brother’s pecadilloes 
from their stern father. 

Mrs. Radcliffe listened to an apology from the footman 


30 “GILBEKT ROSEBEBRY, YOU ARE MY PRISONER !” 

for neglecting to open the door for Mr. Alston, and every 
word that he said was a stab. 

“Being past midnight, ma’am, and as Mr. Alston tapped 
in a mysterous sort of way, my first thoughts were 
burlgars, remembering that the Wilsons were only robbed 
last week and the watch-dog shot on the stoop. ’ ’ 

“It is all right, John,” his mistress told him; and then 
the ladies retired into the drawing-room to await Edgar’s 
tardy appearance. 

“I really hope that he has not been indulging too freely, 
my dear,” Mrs. Radcliffe said. “Why should he alarm the 
servants by tapping on the glass? Edgar has changed very 
much for the worse, lately, and I am not so blind that I 
have not noticed the quantity of wine he drinks at dinner. 
And his talk about cocktails and that sort of thing is dis- 
graceful ! I wonder that his father does not see as I do. ” 
“Listeners rarely hear any good of themselves,” smiled 
Edgar, walking into the room; “and though I have only 
heard your tones of annoyance, dear aunt, I am satisfied 
that I am the culprit under censure. ’ ’ 

Mrs. Radcliffe looked up at him swiftly, and was relieved 
to find that her worst fears were unfounded. 

“Let me confess to the most abominable conduct im- 
aginable,” continued Edgar, airily; “but do not condemn 
me until I have answered your charges in categorical order. 
I have been made a fool of by some one, ” he added, in 
tones of annoyance, “and, by Jove! they shall be made to 
answer to me.” 

Mrs. Radcliffe was mollified, for she was really very 
fond of the handsome fellow. 

“Now listen to this, aunt,” he nephew said. .“We were 


“GILBERT BOSEBEUltY, YOU ARE MY PRISONER !” 31 

to have gone to the opera, and I had been looking forward 
to the pleasure with the keenest delight.” 

He told this lie unblushingly, for he had voted the whole 
affair to he a bore. The sweetest music on earth to him 
were the dulcet tones of Isabel Russell. 

“Immediately after dinner, I received a telegram calling 
me to Bridgley depot, and stating that a dear friend of 
mine was dying there.” 

“Dear! dear!” exclaimed Mrs. Radcliffe. 

“Both you and Minnie had retired to your rooms, and I 
rushed away, quite forgetting, in my impetuous haste, to 
make any calculations regarding the length of time I 
should he absent. I went to Bridgley, to find that nothing 
was known there of the telegram, and in the end have had 
to walk all the way hack to Covington, as there was no 
conveyance to be obtained. I stepped into a swamp, and 
have had to change my clothes, and I frightened the foot- 
man away by tapping at the door, because I did not wish 
him to see the plight that I was in. You never know what 
construction servants put upon things. There, now, don’t 
you think that I am deserving of a little pity?” 

His eyes fell before his sister’s reproachful gaze. She 
knew that he was hiding a great deal. 

“It was a heartless joke,” Aunt Radcliffe declared, in- 
dignantly. “lam sorry that I have misjudged you, Edgar. 
I feared— I feared that you might have been acting im- 
prudently. ” 

Alston flushed redly, and the look that flashed into his 
averted eyes was not pleasant to see. 

“One o’clock!” exclaimed Mrs. Radcliffe, suddenly. 


32 “GILBEET ROSEBEEEY, YOU ARE MY PRISONER !” 

“We must retire at once. It is a shame to keep the serv- 
ants up so long for nothing.” 

She rose, and shook out her skirts, and at the same mo- 
ment there was a prolonged peal at the door-hell — a peal 
which startled all three. 

Alston turned deadly pale, and grew weak about the 
knees. This was most unusual for him, as he had always 
prided himself ui)on having nerves like steel. Minnie 
glanced at him questioningly, and Mrs. Radcliffe waited in 
grim silence. 

Then the footman entered the room without knocking, 
and in the door-way was standing the tall figure of a police- 
man, in whom Edgar immediately recognized his ac- 
quaintance who had called a vehicle for him at the 
Covington carriage stand. 

“It’s all right, aunt,” Alston said, with rare presence of 
mind. “I told this man how I had been fooled, and he may 
have news for me. I will see him alone in another room. ” 

The detective heard these words, a grim smile on his 
lips. 

“Now, ” he thought, “I am sure of my man! He’s a cool 
one, and no mistake! Calls this lady aunt, eh? Great 
Scott!” 

“John,” continued Alston,- addressing the footman, 

‘ lights in the library, please.” 

The man hurried away, and in one minute Edgar and 
the detective were alone, measuring each other curiously. 

“This is a great surprise for me,” the New York ex- 
quisite observed, at length. “Of course I recognize you 
again, hut cannot for the life of me conceive why you have 
followed me here.” 


“GILBEllT BOSEBERRY, YOU ARE MY PRISONER !” 33 

The detective laughed ironically, and Edgar Alston’s 
eyes flashed with anger. 

“Now, don’t try to bluff me anymore,” he sneered, “and 
understand that I’ve got you covered, , even if my right 
hand is in the breast-pocket of my coat. I suppose the 
ladies” — jerking one thumb behind him — “are covering 
your tracks. Women always are as faithful as dogs to 
such fellows as you!” 

Alston stared at the man before him and then burst into 
laughter. 

“By Jove! this is too good,” he said. “Who the duse do ■ 
you take me for? But for the amusing part of it, I’d chuck 
you out. Come, speak up, man!” 

“It’s of no use, Gilbert Roseberry, ” the detective re- 
plied, sententiously. “You know me, and I know you.” 

His eyes never left Alston now, and the right hand that 
slipped from the breast-pocket of his ulster revealed a 
gleaming six-shooter. 

“I am Nat Hawkley, and I am going to take you back 
to the Frankfort Penitentiary either dead or alive.” 

“When did you make this precious discovery?” de- 
manded Edgar. “You can drop that pistol. I give you my 
word of honor that I shall not attempt to escape. ” 

“No, sir. I shall not drop it, ” said Hawkley. “Gilbert 
Roseberry, you are my prisoner!” • 

He advanced a pace, and Alston retorted : 

“Stand back, you fool! You must be mad! Convicts just 
out of prison do not usually wear hair upon their faces, 
and very little on their heads. I am not the man you 
want. An end to this buffoonery, quickly! My aunt and 
sister will become alarmed. ’ ’ 


34 “GILBERT ROSEBERRY, YOU ARE MY PRISONER!” 

“That mustache, etc., will easily come off, I guess,” was 
the dry response. “Now, sir, the handcuffs are ready!” 

For a moment Alston’s frame quivered with suppressed 
fury; then he said, savagely: 

“Beware, Mr. Hawkley, or whatever your name may he. 
I am Edgar Alston, son of Jabez Alston, the New York 
millionaire. This house belongs to Mrs. Radcliffe, and the 
lady is my aunt. I believe that you are honestly mistaken, 
and as I am responsible for that mistake, I am disposed to 
help you in your search for the right man.” 

“Go on, ” smiled Hawkley. 

“I will tell you this much. The clothes in which he es- 
caped from the Frankfort Penitentiary are in my 
dressing-room up stairs. A decoy telegram was sent to me 
to-day, and took me to Bridgley. To return home at once, 
I had to walk to Covington, and came through the tunnel. 
The last train had gone.” 

The detective eyed him warily. 

“When half-way through, I was held up by some fellow 
— a pistol at my head — and forced to give up my clothing. 
I preferred doing that to being shot, but I had no idea that 
my assailant was anything worse than a desperate tramp. 
He took my hat, and an ordinary dress suit. The rest you 
know.” 

Mr. Hawkley lowered his revolver, a growl of disgust 
escaping him. 

“One moment, Mr. Alston, ” he said. “Although I am 
half ■ convinced, I am not going to be tricked. Put your 
hands in these irons while I examine you at close quar- 
ters.” 

' “Certainly,” Edgar laughed, “but remember that you 


“GILBERT ROSEBERRY, YOU ARE MY PRISONER !” 35 

are wasting valuable time. Gilbert Roseberry, your es- 
caped convict, is traveling away from you with a roll of 
my bills in his pocket.” 

“I am convinced,” Nat said, at last. “And just when I 
felt cock-sure! Will you oblige by showing me that tele- 
gram?” 

“I would rather not.” 

“I think that you had better do so, sir. It will release 
you from a good deal of suspicion.” 

“Suspicion?” 

“Yes. Don’t you see that all this might be construed 
into a trick to help Roseberry off?” 

“But the telegram had nothing to do with the convict. 
My walking in the tunnel was the merest chance. It was 
a silly hoax on the part of some of my friends.” 

“Still, I.should like to see it,” Nat Hawkley persisted. 

“It involves the name of a lady friend, ” objected Edgar. 
“But I respect your reasons. The exhibit of that slip of 
paper proves the truth of my story. You shall see it if you 
promise to hold your tongue. If the other part of the story 
gets out, I cannot help it, though my life will be hell on 
earth for months afterward. Reporters and sensational 
newspaper men have no respect for even the most sacred 
privacy of men’s lives in their efforts to obtain reading 
that panders to the depraved appetites of the mob. Under 
the canting cry of public interest, the innocent and guilty 
are lashed into frenzy by exposures which demoralize even 
those who ever crave for more!” 

The detective smiled. 

“True, sir — too true!” he replied. “And the higher the 
victims move in the social scale, the better the papers like 


36 “GILBERT ROSEBERRY, YOU ARE MY PRISONER!” 

it. It is a vice that feeds on its own filth, and some of the 
most honored in the land only escape by submitting to 
blackmail. I will respect yonr feelings, Mr. Alston, and at 
present I see no necessity for any part of the story to get 
into the public print. It need go no further. Roseberry 
has gone, but I have an important clew. It will not serve 
me to acquaint him with the knowledge I jDOssess concern- 
ing his movements up till the moment he left you attired 
in evening dress. I would like to take possession of the 
clothes he gave to you.” 

“Certainly,” said Edgar, delighted at the turn affairs 
were taking, and at the same time handing the telegram 
to Nat Hawkley. 

“Isabel! Humph!” muttered the detective, casting a 
furtive glance at the young man. “A lady in your own 
set, sir?” 

“No — er— not exactly ; but a lady, nevertheless.” 

“lam surprised that you ventured in the tunnel, ” the 
detective went on, after a short silence, “particularly as 
you are a stranger hereabouts.” 

“The station-agent suggested it, because I w’as not 
familiar with the country. By following the track I could 
not wander away. ” 

“Very true. I must see the agent, though. Now, sir, I 
will trouble you for the clothes and your New York ad- 
dress. I may want to call upon you by and by. ” 

Alston ran up stairs, returning in a few minutes with 
the convict suit made into a parcel. He was delighted to 
get rid of it. Then he scribbled down the address of his 
club in New York, and after drinking a stiff glass of 
whisky, Mr. Nathaniel Hawkley went away. 


“GILBERT ROSEBERRY, YOU ARE MY PRISONER !” 37 

“I shall run down the man who has had the temerity to 
fool with me!” Edgar told his aunt and sister a few min- 
utes later ; hut the next morning he w^as forced to explain 
several matters to Minnie, which were decidedly unpalat- 
able to him. 

‘‘It is unkind for you to suggest that Mr. Hawley played 
so foolish a joke, ” Minnie said. 

‘‘Oh, I know that ho is your paragon ! In him are all the 
virtues exemidified!” Edgar laughed. “At least in my 
lady’s eyes!” 

“You shall not speak in this way !” his sister replied, 
with kindling cheeks. “Mr. Hawley is your friend ” 

“And your fervent admirer, dear girl! There! I 'will 
brave your wrath, and admit it, but it would never do for 
Xmpa even to suspect it. By Jove! how pretty you look 
'^vhen you blush, Minnie ! Poor old Ed ! He is one of the 
best fellows in the world, but has hardly had a dollar to 
his name since his father failed. That is one strong reason 
that he never comes to our place now. He could not bear 
to hear our respected papa’s hopes for both of our futures! 
You know how he runs that subject to death? Worse than 
a matrimonial agent ! If he only knew ! ’ ’ 

There was silence for a few minutes. Edgar had spoken 
truly when he hinted that his sister and his old college 
chum, Edward Hawley, were in love with each other. For 
years they had been occasionally thrown together, and a 
deep, unspoken affection had sprung up between them. 
Hawley had been deterred from saying one word by Mr. 
Alston’s often expressed desire that his only daughter would 
marry a title, and when financial ruin crushed his father’s 
honored name, his visits to the Alston mansion ceased. 


38 “GILBEET EOSEBEEEY, YOU ARE MY PRISONER !” 

“I am afraid that papa will have more than one disap- 
pointment, ” Minnie said, decidedly. 

“I am afraid so!” 

“Edgar, why will yon not tell me more of the girl who 
seems to have absorbed yonr whole soul?” 

“You shall know all soon,” he told her, a dark flush in 
his cheek. 

“Tell me, Edgar, does — does — Mr. Hawley approve ” 

“I ask no man’s or woman’s approval,” he replied, 
angrily. “I have told you that Ed knows my Isabel — I 
have told you this to satisfy you, Minnie, but I have not 
asked him to approve of my choice. He himself introduced 
me to the woman, without whom life would be but dust 
and ashes to me now !” 

His sister was surprised by the passion he displayed, 
and thought to herself : 

“Whoever this Isabel may he, I fear that her influence 
upon poor Edgar is the reverse of good. I will contrive to 
see Edward Hawley when we get hack to New York. ” 

The mere whisper of his name brought a beautiful blush 
to her cheeks ! 


“LOVE THAT HATH US IN THE NETT 


39 


CHAPTER IV. 

“love that hath us in the net!” 

Two mornings later Edgar and his sister were seated at 
the breakfast-table at home. Mr. Alston, senior, was read- 
ing the financial column of the morning paper and indulg- 
ing in an occasional grunt when something therein 
merited his disapproval. 

“Argentines have fallen to seventy, ” he muttered. “The 
market is stagnant. Now, if I handle these rightly ” 

He closed his eyes, and was absorbed in mental calcula- 
tion, until his daughter reminded him that his coffee 
would be cold, and while Edgar gnawed his mustache in a 
state of abstraction. 

“Ah, thank you, my child,” said Mr. Jabez Alston, the 
deep lines about his mouth and eyes relaxing into a smile. 
“You cannot guess how lonely I have felt the last few 
days. Robbed of your bright presence, every room has 
seemed dark and dull.” 

It was difficult to imagine any of the splendid rooms of 
the Alston mansion in Fifth avenue, dull. The furniture 
and pictures in each apartment represented a fortune. Mr. 
Jabez Alston was a connoisseur in his way. With all his 
love for money, he had an appreciative eye for the beauti- 
ful and the quaint. His pictures, his statuary, and his 
collection of old armor were valued at a million. 

“But,” he went on, with a meaning smile, “I must use 


40 


“LOVE THAT HATH US IN THE NET !” 


myself to loneliness. I cannot expect to have you ever 
near to me. After our trip to Europe, no one knows what 
may happen. By the way, Lord St. Leonards was here 
yesterday. He insists that we are to he his guests while 
in London. My children, you will he thrown into the very 
cream of the fashionable British upper ten ! Oh, how they ’ 
are fascinated hy the American dollar!” 

Edgar frowned and yawned. 

“Do you require my attendance at the office to-day, 
father?” he asked. 

“I think that I might easily dispense with your services 
altogether, Edgar, ” was the good-humored reply. “Still, 
it gives tone to the establishment for my son to he there 
when the head is away. I shall stick close to business for 
the next two weeks. The markets want constant watch- 
ing. There are ominous signs of a severe crisis, which 
will make and unmake vast fortunes. If you see anything 
of St. Leonards, bring him home to dine.” 

“I will give his lordship your invitation, father, but I 
have an engagement to dine at the club to-day. ” 

Mentally he added : 

“I will evade the British peer as I would a mad dog!” 

“It is always your club,” Mr. Alston muttered, 
testily. “Edgar, Ido not think you study my wishes in 
the least, and it is quite time that you settled down into 
some semblance of respectability. The club means a mid- 
night orgie of some kind, which is almost as disreputable 
to me as it is to yourself. ” 

He rose hurriedly from the table, and having pressed a 
hasty kiss on his daughter’s brow, left the room, Five 


“LOVE THAT HATH US IN THE NET !” 41 

minutes later he was driven away in a coupe to his busi- 
ness in Wall street. 

“I am sick of it all!” Edgar said to his sister, when they 
w^ere alone in the drawing-room. “This Lord St. Leonards 
is hooked by our papa for you, Minnie, and I am expected 
to reserve myself for the peer’s sister, or cousin, or any 
other angular fright that may be possessed of a title and a 
pedigree. I have not a particle of interest in this projected 
trip to Europe, and have no intention of going, either! 
The midnight orgie to which he so politely referred means 
a visit to the woman I worship ! I tell you what it is — we 
shall have to face the old chap, assert ourselves, and trust 
to luck!” 

There was a moody frown on' his brow. 

“And as for the beggarly allowance he makes me,” he 
went on, savagely, “it is a disgrace, considering his 
wealth!” 

Minnie opened her eyes widely. 

“Ten thousand a year, Edgar,” she reminded him. 

“Pshaw!” 

He was thinking of the siren who had enslaved him. 

“For your sake, Minnie, I will take care not to run 
across St. Leonards,” he went on, sympathetically. “You 
are far too good for that effete member of the British 
aristocracy, with his maddening drawl. Now for the solu- 
tion of that telegram — a call upon Hawley, and then ” 

’His brow became unclouded, and a joyous light shone in 
his eyes. 

“And then?” questioned Minnie. “I think I can guess 
the rest,” 


42 


“LOVE THAT HATH US IN THE NET!” 


There was a smile upon her lips, hut it slowly died away 
as she whispered : 

“And you will take me to Isabel soon, will you not? 
Oh, Edgar, you do not know how anxious I am to see the 
woman who has the making of my only brother — for good 
or evil. And is it not right that I should know her — should 
know one who may one day he my sister?” 

“What stuff you talk!” Edgar said, pettishly. “Though 
the last drop of my heart’s blood belongs to Isabel, I know 
not whether she returns my affection yet ! Do you know, 
Minnie,” he went on, huskily, “if I lost her I should lose 
my reason? I should go mad ! You spoke truly when you 
said that she had the making of me, for good or evil. Tell 
me if you can understand such love as this?” 

“No,” shuddered his sister; “I cannot! It is not love, it 
is frenzy. Under such influences as these, men are ready 
to commit almost any crime!” 

“I believe you, ” he replied, moodily. “If Isabel told me 
to commit murder, I believe that I should do it!” 

Then he laughed in a constrained manner, adding : 

“What nonsense we are talking! And how serious you 
have grown!” 

His sister did not reply, but when he was gone she 
penned the following note to Edward Hawley : 

“Dear Mr. Hawley:— I wish to consult with you upon 
a very important matter concerning Edgar. He often de- 
clares that you are the only real friend he has in the 
world, and I know not to whom else I can turn in mv 
present difficulty. Please treat this with confidence I 
shall he at home any afternoon this week, between two 
and four o’clock. 

“Sincerely yours, 

“Minnie Alston.” 


“LOVE THAT HATH US IN THE NET !” 43 

She wrote this with many misgivings. Was there any- 
thing wrong in doing so? Was there anything that was 
not strictly within the hounds of decorum? 

The letter was sent by a servant to Mr. Hawley’s apart- . 
ments in Twenty-third street. A year previously he had 
occupied, with his parents, a house as handsome as that of 
Mr. Jabez Alston, but Mr. Hawley, senior, had lost every 
cent of which he was possessed in some gigantic enterprise 
which had ingulfed the fortunes and the honor of many 
other men who had been reputed as wealthy as Croesus — 
he lost every cent, and the shock killed him. The erst- 
while gilded broker, whose plunges had made even a mon- 
archy tremble, died with scarcely enough left to pay his 
funeral expenses. His house, his furniture, his horses — 
everything was sold to satisfy the greedy maw of the 
creditor. 

The man who had received their fawning caresses, they 
now cursed for a knave, because the cards had at last run 
the wrong way. His son and widow moved into a cheap 
flat in Twenty-third street, and Edward Hawley, who had 
never earned a meal, found himself face to face with life 
in its sternest aspect. Twenty dollars, an ornamental edu- 
cation, and a name which had become a by-word, was his 
stock in trade. 

An old friend offered him the post of book-keeper in a 
large dry-goods store, but he felt that it would be an im- 
position to make a pretense of doing that of which he had 
but a very superficial knowledge. He respectfully declined 
the offer, and was cut to the quick to see that his decision 
was received with relief— nay, almost gratitude ! 

“lam an object of pitiable charity;” he thought, bit- 


44 “LOVE THAT HATH US IN THE NETl” 

terly. “I will see no more of these who knew me in my 
prosperity. The past is dead!” 

His principal amusement had been painting, but he was 
not sufficiently expert as an artist to gain a livelihood by 
painting pictures for the dealers, or even clever enough to 
obtain commissions from the book publishers. He lacked 
the necessary experience, and with poverty at his elbows 
he could not wait. 

In this unhappy frame of mind he was passing the Holf- 
man House one morning, his eyes bent to the pavement, 
when some one called, loudly : 

‘ ‘ Hullo ! Is that you, Hawley ? ’ ’ 

He recognized the voice. It was that of one of his oldest 
friends — it was the brother of the girl to whom he had 
given the one love of his life — now, alas ! utterly hopeless 
— it was Edgar Alston — unsteady on his feet, weary of eye, 
and tremulous with the misery that nights of dissipation 
leave behind. 

Hawley turned, and the two young men shook hands. 

“Where the duse have you been lately?” demanded 
Alston. “By Jove! old boy, I must have a whisky cock- 
tail. Come along!” 

“No — no! Not in there now!” 

“Why? Ah! I understand,” Edgar returned, with ready 
sympathy, and they turned into the nearest saloon. 

“Of course I know all about the old boy, ” Edgar went 
on. “Who does not? But you are not actually cleaned out 
of the boodle, eh?” 

“Every dollar!” groaned Hawley. “But then — don’t 
pity me. I’ve had quite enough of that. Not that I should 
mind you, old man; not that I do mind you. You have a 


“LOVE THAT HATH US IN THE NET!” 


45 


good heart somewhere, though it is devilish weak in 
some things. Why will you drink so much of this stuff? 
You are killing yourself!” 

“We never did agree on that point, Hawley, ” Alston 
said, sulkily, “hut a fellow must enjoy himself, you know. 
I shall have to settle down some day. Do you know that I 
sometimes wish I were one of those poor devils who drive 
a pen ten hours a day for a weekly stipend of as many 
dollars? My life out West has done me no good. I con- 
tracted all my had habits out there. The old hoy sent me 
away on account of that little girl who was cashier in 
Milligan’s buffet. You remember?” 

“Yes, I remember. She married one of the waiters a 
month afterward,” smiled Hawley. 

An oath escaped Alston’s lips ; then he went on with 
some improbable stories of his adventures out West, which 
Edward had heard at least a hundred times before with 
variations. 

“I may be a bad lot — an out and out loafer,” concluded 
Edgar, “but I have not had the guidance of a mother, and 
my father looks upon me merely as a stepping-stone to 
some future social triumph. I have had no anchor chain 
about me to restrain all that is reckless and foolish in my 
nature.” 

“How can you seriously say that?” his companion 
asked, a little reproachfully. “No man ever had a better 
sister than you have.” 

Alston glanced at him sharply, saying: 

“Poor Minnie! Yes, T know that she loves me; but a 
sister is not everything, and she is very much in the same 


46 “LOVE THAT HATH US IN THE NET !’* 

boat with me. Why do you not come to our place now, 
Ed?” he added, gently. 

“You can guess.” 

“I am not quite blind, and Minnie misses you very 
much.” 

“I should be a dishonorable villain to come now. I am 
as poor as the proverbial mouse. ” 

“That would not affect my sister.” 

“But your father!” 

There was an imperceptible sneer on Hawley’s face and 
in his tones. 

“Yes — yes! My father is a monomaniac upon one sub- 
ject. But, look here, old man; we must hope for the best. 
You will make your way, and may wun Minnie in spite of 
all! For myself, I am fancy-free, and hate all women 
since ” 

“Since the girl at the buffet ” 

“Oh, don’t!” groaned Alston. “I shall never love an- 
other ! And she married a w’aiter — a little beast of an 
Italian, with splay feet and a squint! But n’importe!” 

He gulped down his whisky almost savagely, while his 
companion w^as unconsciously smiling, a pre-occupied look 
in his hazel eyes. He was thinking of Miss Alston. 

Presently he held out his hand, saying, sadly : 

“I must say good-by, old fellow.” v 

“No, I’m blessed if you do!” was the energetic retort. 
“You are going home with me!” 

He looked with fond affection at his friend, but Hawley 
shook his head sorrowfully. 

“No, old man. I have nothing to do with the past; I am 
not the Edward Hawley of the glorious Harvard days. I 


“LOVE THAT HATH US IN THE NET !” 47 

am not the Edward Hawley who was nursed in the lap of 
New York’s select! I am obliterated, and the business of 
life is before me. ’ ’ 

He groaned. The business of life ! 

A unit in the mad throng, who had no answer to the 
savage questioning glances as to his right among them I 
What was his business? He had none ! 

“What are you doing?” demanded Edgar Alston, sus- 
piciously. “I have a right to know— the right of a life-long 
friendship. ’ ’ 

“Nothing — yet!” 

“And what do you intend doing?” 

‘I don’t know,” was the broken rejoinder. “Don’t 
torture me, Edgar.” 

Alston was silent. He realized his friend’s position far 
more acutely than if a volume of words had been ex- 
changed. 

“My father ” he began, but Hawley interrupted him. 

“I will have no man’s pity or patronage. You under- 
stand me? Why should I occupy a post, and be paid to be 
a stumbling-block and a nuisance because I am pitied? I 
will not have it! I must feel that I am doing honest work 
—that I am giving a fair equivalent for wdiatever I re- 
ceive. I have a slight thread of hope. I have this morning 
called upon a sign-painter— a man who makes a specialty 
of pictorial advertisements in oils, and he has promised to 
give me a trial. I am fairly clever with the brush, as far 
as mediocrity goes.” 

“Good Heaven!” ejaculated Alston. “Has it come to 
this?” 

“Yes, it has come to this. I have to support my mother. ” 


48 


“LOVE THAT HATH US IN THE NET!” 


“How much do you expect to get for those signs?” 

“Haven’t the faintest idea!” 

“Look here, Ed. I’m not going to desert you now,” 
Alston burst out. ‘ ‘ Come with me— I insist ! ’ ’ 

He thrust one arm through that of his friend, adding : 

“I am going to the Frivolity Theater. They want a good 
man for scenic work. Stimson, the manager, is a friend of 
mine. The employment will be regular, as they go in for 
variety business, and there is money in it. ’ ’ 

Hawley became as pale as death. 

The suddenly aroused hope was almost too much for 
him, and he was led away unresistingly by Alston. 

He remembered being introduced to Stimson, a portly, 
middle-aged man, with an expansive shirt front, in the 
center of which was a diamond as large as a walnut, whose 
brilliancy appeared to be for the purpose of illuminating a 
watch-chain as thick as a man’s finger. He heard as in a 
dream the conversation concerning Mr. Stimson ’s require- 
ments, and was told that he might begin work right away 
at a salary of sixty dollars a week ! After three months of 
absolute beggary, this was a fortune! And yet, only a 
short time back he had frequently spent a hundred dollars 
upon one evening’s enjoyment ! 

So pleased was the management with his work — his 
steady application, his quiet, unassuming manners, that 
an agreement was drafted wherein he was bound to work 
for the Frivolity exclusively at a salary of one hundred 
dollars per week. 

The fiat in Twenty-third street was soon comfortably 
furnished, and a neat servant-maid added to the little 
household. Once more, Edward Hawley held up his head. 


“LOVE THAT HATH US IN THE NET !” 49 

His widowed mother enjoyed many of her little luxuries, 
including even her drives in Central Park, and her son 
had been induced to dine with the Alstons more than 
once. 

But he was always unhappy and discontented after see- 
ing Minnie Alston, and at last he resolved never to go to 
the Fifth avenue mansion again. What was he? A mere 
scenic artist, and she? The daughter of New York’s 
proudest millionaire! 

All this happened some months prior to the opening 
scene in this chapter, and Edward Hawley had vainly tried 
to tear the image of Minnie Alston from his heart. She 
could never he anything to him, and it was with the bit- 
terest pangs of sorrow and jealousy that he heard of the 
frequent visits to the Alstons of a good-looking British 
peer, known as Lord St. Leonards. He remembered Mr. 
Jabez Alston’s vanity, his ambition, his scoffings at love 
and all such insane nonsense. He was a man of inflexible 
will, of cold and cruel determination, which none ever 
ventured to oppose, unless they were brave enough to 
merit his eternal displeasure and enmity. A magnate with 
millions behind him is a dangerous foe ! 


50 


THE TEMPTRESS AT WORK. 


CHAPTER V. 

THE TEMPTRESS AT WORK. 

.When Edward Hawley received Miss Alston’s note he 
was almost bewildered with joy ! The words were cold and 
formal, the “Sincerely Yours” and the signature were the 
same that she had doubtless penned to hundreds of people, 
hut he kissed them rapturously, and vowed that he would 
never part with the letter, to the day of his death ! 

“She wishes to consult with me, ” he murmured, and 
his heart sank. “Bah! What a fool I am! A mere friendly 
adviser ! Perhaps St. Leonards is to be her future lord, 
and I am sent for, as an old friend of the family, to advise 
and assist in the arrangements for the wedding. Heavens ! 
I would sooner he shot!” 

Then he laughed at his own foolish fears. No engage- 
ment even had yet been announced, and, growing cooler, 
he rightly surmised that Miss Alston had something to 
say about her brother. 

“He is not worthy of such an angelic sister, ” Hawley 
thought. “Still, I believe that he has improved lately, 
though I see very little of Edgar now that I am out of his 
set. I did not know that they had returned from Cincin- 
nati.” 

He lunched with his mother, and after a refreshing 
smoke, dressed with great care. 

“I am going to take half a day off,” he told her, “and 


THE TEMPTRESS AT WORK. 51 

shall he home early. We will see Irving in ‘Hamlet’ to- 
night, if yon like, mother.” 

Mrs. Hawley gladly assented. How proud she was of 
her handsome son ! 

He walked to the Frivolity, and explained to Mr. Stimson 
that he had an engagement with a friend. His precise 
business ways and punctuality had gained for him the re- 
spect and confidence of the w-hole management. 

While the church clocks w^ere chiming the hour of three, 
he strode quickly along the smooth pavements of Fifth 
avenue, and passed under the splendid portico of the 
Alston mansion, his heart beating quick time. 

The footman admitted him at once, and he was con- 
ducted into one of the magnificent reception-rooms, where- 
in Jabez Alston delighted to entertain and do honor to the 
foremost notabilities of the time. 

In a very few minutes there was a soft footfall without, 
and Edward Hawley felt the hot blood rush through every 
artery of his being. The door opened, and Minnie Alston 
stood before him, her dark eyes aglow, her whole soul 
shining in her lovely orbs. 

Hawley rose to meet her, and they exchanged a few 
commonplaces ; then they were seated, and for a minute 
there was an awkward silence. 

“I have obeyed your note. Miss Alston,” Hawley at 
last ventured. 

“Your are very kind,” stammered Minnie. “I half re- 
pented of my action when it was too late. • I forgot how 
much you are engaged, but trouble makes us selfish and 
inconsiderate.” 

“Trouble?” he questioned, gently. 


52 


THE TEMPTRESS AT WORK. 


“Yes; it is about Edgar. ” 

“Ha! I feared something of this kind, but I hoped that 
he was improving. ’ ’ 

“In one way, yes; but for some weeks he has been in- 
fatuated with some lady, and the madness of his passion 
frightens me. I am afraid that he will do something dread- 
ful. You have not seen him to-day?” she questioned, sud- 
denly. 

“No,” was the grave reply. 

“Then you know nothing of his recent escapades, and I 
know that he intends calling upon you to-day or to- 
morrow. I would not have troubled you in the matter, 
only I am anxious to know if the lady who has completely 
enslaved Edgar, body and soul, is a good woman. He will 
tell me nothing about her, and I have an intuitive feeling 
that all is not right. ’ ’ 

Hawley looked at her in surprise. 

“Miss Alston, I knew nothing of this,” he answered. 
“Edgar has not made a confidant of me; and if he had, I 
do not think that it would be honorable for me to interfere 
in so delicate a matter.” 

Minnie fiushed warmly, saying : 

“I think that your notions of honor are a little strained, 
Mr. Hawley. Pray do not forget that I am Edgar Alston’s 
only sister, and that his well-being is dearer to me than 
my own. He informed me that you had introduced the 
lady to him, and with that guarantee upon the hall-mark 
of her respectability, I have for some time been content. I 
do not know why I should doubt the lady, only that he is 
so reticent concerning her, and that which he calls love is 
perhaps but an evil spell that drowns his senses. ” 


THE TEMPTKESS AT WORK.' 


53 


Hawley was watching her with passionate eyes, hut he 
dropped them suddenly, and murmured : 

“I introduced him to this lady? What is her name. Miss 
Alston?” 

“Even that he will not tell me, but I have heard him 
speak of her as Isabel.” 

Edward Hawley’s face grew dark. 

“That she-devil!” he muttered; then jumping to his 
feet, he paced the floor in violent agitation. 

“Miss Alston, you have shocked me beyond measure,” 
he said. “Unfortunately, I did introduce him to a dancing 
woman named Isabel Russell. Edgar called at the Frivolity 
to see me, and she w’as there at the time upon business 
with the manager, who told me a part of her checkered 
career. She is a wonderfully beautiful woman, and Edgar 
insisted upon an introduction. You know how susceptible 
he is. But the circumstance had quite escaped my memory, 
and I understood that her terms did not suit the manage- 
ment of the Frivolity. That is all I know of the matter.” 

Minnie clasped her hands in anguish. 

“I feared something of this kind,” she said. “His father 
will cast him off forever, and then he will go to the had 
irretrievably. ’ ’ 

“And in a measure it will be Mr. Alston’s own fault,” 
Hawley remarked, bitterly and sternly. “He would sell 
his children to gratify an ambition which is contemptible 
in any man who breathes the true principles of American 
freedom.” 

He gazed at her, an honest flush on his cheek, the fire of 
righteous indignation in his hazel eyes, and then he turned 
away with a sound that was half a sob. 


54 


THE TEMPTRESS AT WORK. 


“Mr. Hawley!” 

He swung round, and he saw in her blushing, beautiful 
face that which was more eloquent than written volumes. 

“Minnie!” he whispered, hoarsely. “God forgive me for 
this madness of a moment. I cannot resist you ! I have 
loved you as my divinity for long years. I have dreamed 
of you by night and by day, hut the change in my for- 
tunes, independently of your father’s maudlin hopes, ren- 
ders it an insult for me to speak to the daughter of the 
greatest capitalist and financier of modern times. I have 
worshiped you in the happy years that may never he re- 
called. I worship you now ; I shall worship you forever ! 
Now you may send me away, never to look upon or speak 
to you again!” 

He dropped the burning fingers that he had seized in his 
sudden passion. He turned and reeled half across the floor, 
and would have fled if Miss Alston had not held out her 
hands to him imploringly. 

“Mr. Hawley— Edward!” she said, with flaming cheeks. 
“This avowal has not altogether surprised me. My heart 
has told me that you care for me even as I do for you !” 

She bowed her head. His arms were about her instantly, 
his hot kisses on her face. His brain swam. Oh ! this ec- 
static reality ! 

What words of fond endearment passed between them— 
what vows of eternal constancy, only the angels heard ! 

It was five o’clock when Edward Hawley left, and he 
had not been gone twenty minutes when Jabez Alston 
arrived home, accompanied by a tall, thin exquisite wdiom 
he addressed as “my lord.” This was St. Leonards, the 


THE TEMPTEEfeS AT WORK. 


55 


British aristocrat, who wore upon his face a perpetual 
barren smile, and in his right eye a monocle. 

While these eventful happenings were taking place, 
Edgar Alston had called at the Athenian Club, and had re- 
ceived from the steward several letters, but the one which 
enchained his attention read as follows, and it was written 
in a hold, firm hand : 

“Edgar Altson, Esq. 

“My Dear Sir: — I take an early opportunity for thank- 
ing you for the loan you so kindly advanced me the other 
evening, and you will find the exact amount returned 
herein. The clothes I borrowed from you are also left with 
the steward, as I never permit myself to he long in any 
man’s debt. Those you took in exchange I have no further 
use for. By the way, I am very glad that you did not 
show fight in the tunnel,- for I was not only unarmed, but 
very weak from long fasting. However, all’s well that 
ends well. Gratefully Yours, 

“Gilbert Roseberry.’’ 

Alston read this precious missive over twice, then he 
burst into amused laughter. The money w^as there all 
right, and the clothes he presented to one of the club em- 
ployees. 

“Who left this letter?” he asked the steward. “I see 
that it was brought by hand. ” 

“A boy. He said that it had been given to him by a 
gentleman outside.” 

After lunch he sent for a cab and was driven to a 
jeweler’s in Broadway. 

His business there was brief, but it left him indebted to 
the firm to the tune of two thousand dollars, for a glitter- 
ing bauble which he carried in his vest-pocket. The credit 
of the only son of Jabez Alston was almost unlimited! 


56 


THE TEMPTRESS AT WORK. 


“Fifty-second street and Park avenue!” he said to the 
Jehu, springing into the cab. 

There was a wild glitter in his eyes, a flush on his face, 
and his breath came in short, quick gasps. The joy even 
of anticipation was almost more than he could bear. 

At the corner of Fifty-second street and Park avenue he 
dismissed his cabman, and proceeded on foot until he stood 
before a pretentious brown-stone apartment house. With 
a latch-key he gained entrance to the hall, and sprang up 
the stairs two steps at a time. On the third floor he paused 
to press an electric button in the wall. 

One of the doors was promptly opened by a clean-look- 
ing servant-woman, who gave a mute assent to Alston’s 
question, “Is Miss Eussell within?” by moving aside for 
him to pass. 

Beyond was a medium-sized reception-room worthy of a 
poet’s dream. The carpet was velvet of the most beautiful 
texture, make, and design. The window’s were draped with 
billowy folds of snowy lace, which lent relief to the pale- 
blue curtains of finest silk, looped back with tiny tassels 
of gold. There w’ere but a few pictures — gems in their 
wray. The furniture w’as the choicest that money could 
buy; and everywhere were scattered about costly orna- 
ments and bric-a-brac which would have sent a collector 
frantic with envy. The vases were filled with flowers, 
freshly cut, and on every hand was the evidence of wealth 
and refinement. 

Reclining on a lounge in this gilded cage — this bower 
of a beauty — was one of the loveliest women ever created 
to enslave the heart of man. Though five-and-twenty 
years of age, there was not a voluptuous line in her perfect 


THE TEMPTRESS AT WORK. 


57 


figure. She was graceful and rhythmical from the soles of 
her dainty feet — from the pink tips of her taper fingers to 
the crown of her shapely head ! The face was oval, and 
faultless in its contour. The nose was straight, the eyes 
large and black as midnight— deep, misty, hidden wells of 
fervent passion ; the mouth was full and red as blood. The 
hair of bluest-black surmounted her head like a royal 
crown. There was a carnation at her waxen throat, and 
her dress was of pale-amber silk, while her fingers 
sparkled with gems. 

This living Venus was Isabel Russell — the peri who had 
cast the spell of her witchery over Edgar Alston. 

And this was the splendid cage he had provided for her 
— insane with the madness of his love ! 

He stepped softly into the room, carefully closing the 
door behind him, and Isabel sprang up with a low cry. 

“Edgar! Oh, you darling, to come so soon!” 

He pressed her to his heart, delirious with joy. Her 
clinging lips sent his blood like molten fire bounding 
through every artery. 

“Queenie,” he whispered, “you received my letter?” 

“Yes, Edgar; but why will you cling to the old name? 
Do you know how I hate it — the pet name which has been 
fouled by the lips of so many love-sick fools!” 

“You are my queen!” panted Alston, as he seated him- 
self beside her. “My queen forever! But in future I will 
call you Isabel — always Isabel. ’ ’ 

She fiashed upon him the lightnings of her ever-changing 
eyes, and whispered: 

“I received your letter, and I was frightened. The mys- 
tery of that telegram — who has guessed that we are any- 


58 


THE TEMPTRESS AT WORK. 


thing to each other? And your strange adventure made 
me tremble. A convict!” 

She held up her hands in pretended horror. 

‘‘Oh, Edgar, if he had killed you!” 

“He is no ordinary criminal, Isabel,” Alston replied. 
“See! here is a letter from him which has been left at my 
club. By Jove! he must have nerves of steel! I would 
almost consider it an honor to shake hands with the ras- 
cal ! But he is playing a fool-hardy game, and is bound to 
be caught.” 

The lovely siren read the letter with evident interest, a 
delicate pink flush dyeing her rounded cheeks. 

Then she pushed it away with a little shudder, murmur- 
ing: 

“Oh, how dreadful! I am so glad that the — the convict 
seems so kindly disposed toward you. Will you let me 
keep this letter, dear? I am fond of such curious things. ’ ’ 

“It is yours, darling, and here is something of far 
greater value.” 

He took from his pocket a small leather case, and in its 
satin-lined interior displayed a tiny tiara of diamonds — 
brilliant-hued and beautiful. 

“Oh, Edgar!” she gasped. “How lovely! You must 
have spent a fortune to obtain these perfect gems!” 

“Two thousand dollars,” he replied, complacently. “A 
sum well spent, even for one sweet kiss!” 

She sprang away, pretending to evade an expected 
caress, her low laughter sounding like the tinkle of sum- 
mer waters, and he gazed in rapture at her glorious form. 

Before a mirror she paused to flx the bauble in her hair, 
then sank beside him again, her sinuous movements, her 


THE TEMPTRESS AT WORK. ov 

bewitching smiles sending him into the seventh heaven of 
delight. 

“Have you yet had sufficient evidence of my love 
for you, Isabel?” he asked, softly. “Can you give me 
some definite promise, my darling, that you will be my 
wife?” 

“How impatient you are!” was the low reply, while she 
caressed his hair with her cool fingers. “Your love may be 
but a passing dream ” 

‘ ‘ N o — no 1 ” he interrupted. 

“And I want to be assured that it is deathless — that it is 
no fever fancy,” she proceeded. “Oh, you men are so 
fickle, and it would kill me to be an unloved wife!” 

“Unloved!” he gasped. “Impossible, Isabel!” 

“But I have been told so before, many times. Lovers 
come, and lovers go!” 

“And have you given any other man the right to kiss 
you?” he demanded, jealously — “to caress you as I have 
done?” 

“No, no, Edgar! Do not look at me like that! There 
was murder in your eyes!” 

She shivered, and spoke piteously. 

“Murder!” he laughed, harshly. “Isabel, I believe that 
I could be guilty of any crime for love of you ! If you 
commanded me to do it, I should have no power to resist.” 

She turned her head to hide a smile of contempt, and 
continued : 

“Do not let us talk of these awful things. You frighten 
me ! Let it be sufficient for the present, Edgar, that you 
are all the world to me. I am not so selfish that I would 
alienate you from the affections of your father. Have you 


60 


THE TEMPTEESS AT WOEK. 


not dragged me from the profession I hated? Have you 
not surrounded me with every luxury?” 

She pressed her lips to his fevered brow, and he caught 
her in a mad embrace. 

“It must be settled soon — one way or the other,” he 
said. “This suspense will kill me. I care not for father’s 
wishes — I care for nothing ” 

“Hush, darling! You must not be rash. I could never 
marry a poor man ! Oh ! I hate poverty — I hate it because 
I know that love and poverty never agree!” 

She clasped her hands together pathetically, and Alston 
stepped to the window to hide the passionate feelings that 
were raging in his mind. He cursed the father that stood 
between him and the possession of this peerless siren. 

“Isabel,” he said, presently, “you maybe right, but I 
hardly know how I can keep the burning fires within me 
under control. I must think — I must think ! My father is 
worth thirty millions. At least half of that will be mine. ” 

Her eyes blazed, while her soft bosom heaved tumult- 
uously. 

“Thirty millions!” she whispered, huskily. “A part of 
it is yours by right ! It would be no sin to take your 
share!” 

She shot a hungry glance at him ; then cried, raptur- 
ously : 

“Oh, Edgar, there will be a lovely moon to-night, the 
sky is clear, and the air fresh and crisp! You must take 
me for a drive. Eemember how very good I have been 
while you have been away ! Promise, darling. ” 

“I would promise anything!” he replied. 

“Then be here at six o’clock! Now run away, there’s a 


THE TEMPTRESS AT WORK. 


61 


dear boy, as I am expecting my Aunt Judith from Colorado 
this afternoon. ’ ’ 

She had hut to command to he obeyed, and after another 
embrace he turned to go, saying : 

“I will be here at six, Isabel ! One question, my darling. 
You will not inflict; Aunt Judith upon me, will you? It 
would make our drive valueless!” 

“How ridiculous!” rippled from Isabel Russell’s rosy 
mouth, and the siren laughter followed him like the 
chiming of fairy bells. 


62 


IN THE MESHES OF THE SIKEN. 


CHAPTER VI. 

IN THE MESHES OF THE SIREN. 

For a minute the beautiful witch stood, her lips wreathed 
in bitterest contempt, her eyes glowing with triumph. 
Then her whole expression changed to one of burning 
anxiety ; the face was transformed from that of a smiling 
she-devil into that of a loving woman ! 

A door at the end of the room, half-hidden by a screen, 
was thrown open, revealing an anteroom beyond, from 
which emerged the figure of the woman whom Alston had 
been thought to believe was the servant-maid of his en- 
chantress. 

“Have you got rid of that poor half-witted thing, 
Isabel?” she asked. 

“Lucy, do not keep me in suspense. Gilbert has come ! 
I heard his step on the stair. I know it in a thousand, and 
I sent Mr. Alston away.” 

Her heart was throbbing wildly now, and to have 
brought that look into her glorious eyes Edgar Alston 
would have forfeited his immortal soul ! 

‘ ‘ Gilbert ! Oh, my husband ! ’ ’ 

A man had appeared in the doorway, a tall man, with 
snow-white hair and mustache ; the face was lined with 
age, or the perfection of art, but behind the spectacles he 
wore were eyes of unusual brilliancy. 

“Isabel,” he laughed, “are you glad to see me?” 


IN THE MESHES OF THE SIREN. 


63 


With a well-pleased look upon her face, Lucy retired, 
while husband and wife fell into each other’s arms. 

“There,” he said, “I must rest, Isabel; my health has 
not been improved by the atmosphere of Frankfort, and 
the subsequent adventures which befell me. By Jove! 
how beautiful you are, my dear I And what a fairy nest is 
this!” 

He looked about him enviously. 

“I was never able to provide for you in this way, 
Isabel.” 

“You gave me your love, Gilbert, and a faithful heart,” 
she replied. “Others shall provide the wealth we love 
now.” 

Her lips curled, and soft laughter rippled through the 
room. 

“I think that our poverty is nearly at an end. I have 
my plans well made, and nothing shall stand between me 
and a fortune!” 

Her great eyes flashed. 

“This last one seems to be well gilded,” the man re- 
marked. “What became of Hilton?” 

She looked at him sharply. 

“Don’t forget that I have been away recruiting my 
health for six months, Isabel, ” he reminded her. 

“Hilton is dead — shot himself!” she shuddered. 

“How was that?” 

“Embezzlement, and its usual attendants,” was the 
‘calm reply. “No more small game, Gilbert! Now tell me 
your chances of being safe. I knew that you were in New 
York. I have seen your letter to young Alston, the 
millionaire’s son. ’ ’ 


64 


IN THE MESHES OF THE SIREN. 


He smiled grimly, saying : 

“My God, Isabel, your equal was never born before! 
But I do not wonder that men worship you. You grow 
handsomer every day. I shall be glad w'hen there is an 
end to all this — when we can settle down in peace and 
safety. A taste of convict life subdues the fire in a man, 
and I have the nauseous flavor still in my mouth ! This 
comes of a wasted youth ; and though my love for you has 
been my undoing, I would willingly go through all my 
sufferings again rather than lose you!” 

“I believe you, Gilbert, and now I am working for you.” 

“I am pretty certain that I have thrown the blood-hounds 
off the scent, and there is small danger in my coming 
here, for none will connect Gilbert Roseberry with Isabel 
Russell, the danseuse.” 

“That is all over,” she said. 

“And my disguise is perfect,” he continued. “Even 
Lucy failed to recognize me ! No, there must be no more 
small game. The horse trick worked pretty w'ell while it 
lasted, but it was too risky all along, and landed me in 
Frankfort Prison for two years — less eighteen months,” 
he added, with a cheerful smile. “Your plans for my es- 
cape, Isabel, worked like a charm, until the very last. In 
some way Hawkley got scent of me, and I dared not way- 
lay young Alston, as arranged. You are sure that you can 
trust him?” 

“Do I ever make a mistake where love is concerned?” 
she asked him, scornfully. “Alston would save you at 
the peril of his neck, if I commanded him to do so. 
Still, it is perhaps better as it is.” 

“I half-distrusted him,” went on Roseberry. “Two 


IN THE MESHES OF THE SIEEN. 65 

nights in that infernal tunnel weakened me, but luck ran 
my way, and when I heard the station-agent advise him to 
walk hack to Covington through the tunnel I knew that I 
was safe. I had been tracking him for an hour. Now as 
to the future?” 

“I shall want you to obey me, Gilbert, and within three 
months we will he in Europe with a million at least.” 

He was startled, and the color showed through the dye 
on his face. 

“Is it a safe lay?” he asked. 

“New York will soon he too warm for us — it is too 
warm now ; and I propose to spend a life of luxury else- 
where. I have this Alston in leading strings — I intend 
having the father — the entire family. Palmer is working 
with us.” 

“Curse him!” scowled Roseherry. 

“He is indispensable to the perfect success of my 
schemes, ” smiled Isabel. “You have no need for further 
jealousy, Gilbert. Palmer’s fever is at an end, and to him, 
equally with myself, you owe your present liberty.” 

“Go on,” he said, gloomily; “but I am sorry that my 
old foe still has the whip-hand over me. I fondly hoped 
that this secret was between us two — and my sister 
Lucy.” 

“I tell you that Palmer is utterly and completely in my 
power. You shall never suffer through him. I would kill 
him first!” she hissed. 

In a few words she unfolded to him the substance of a 
diabolical plot, and he listened with glistening eyes. 

“Isabel,” he said, at last, “if I did not worship you, I 
should believe that you were a beautiful devil. My only 


66 


IN THE MESHES OF THE SIREN. 


wonder is that you are content with me, when you can 
bring the world to your feet!” 

“We have little to fear, ” she proceeded, “except Stim- 
son, the manager of the Frivolity. He refused me employ- 
ment when to dance was my last resource. I met him in 
Chicago, and never dreamed of seeing him in New York, 
but he must not stand in my way. ” 

She pressed her red lips together until they looked like ' 
streaks of blood. ■ 

“And my part in all this?” questioned Roseberry. i 

“To keep yourself free of the police by playing 
chaperon. You are to be my Aunt Judith, and the neces- 
sary disguise is ready,” laughed Isabel. “Mr. Alston is 
coming at six to take me for a drive. When we return you 
must meet him at supper.” 

In the meanwhile, Alston had sauntered back to his 
club, his mind full of one horrible thought. 

His father was standing between him and happiness ! 
“She is mine — she is mine!” he thought, “if I can but 
assure her that we shall not be poor ! Can it be wondered 
at that she has this horrible dread of poverty, after the 
cruel way in which the world has buffeted her about?” 

His goddess had confided to him the story of her life. 
“She, a lady by birth, driven forth to work and herd 
with the mob. The stage was her only avenue from 
starvation — a profession she abhors. Poor Isabel ! I would 
die for you! And now, how shall I face my father? Why 
should he hoard his millions, while a tenth part of his 
wealth would place me in a garden of paradise?” 

At the club doors he was accosted by a tall man attired 
in a neat-fitting suit of dark-gray. 


IK THE MESHES OF THE SIEEN. 


67 


“I wish to see you, Mr. Alston,” he said. 

Edgar scanned him from head to toe. 

“I have not the pleasure of your acquaintance, sir.” 

“Nathaniel Hawkley, ” was the dry response. 

“Ah! I should not have recognized you, Mr. Hawkley,” 
Edgar said. “If your business is not very pressing, Mr. 
Hawkley, I should he glad to defer it. I have an important 
engagement. ” 

“I will not detain you five minutes, sir,” the detective 
replied, unabashed by the hauteur in Alston’s tones. “I 
understand that a parcel was left here to-day, and I sus- 
pect that it contained the clothes you permitted the con- 
vict Roseherry to take from you.” 

“Who told you this?” demanded Edgar. 

“Never mind who told me, sir; that is my business. I 
only ask you for a confirmation or a denial.” 

“Yes, the man has returned the clothes. What more do 
you require?” Alston spoke impatiently. “You people 
always make so much mystery out of nothing.” 

“Did Roseherry send you anything else?” demanded 
Hawkley. 

“A letter,” said Alston, laughing, half amused and half 
annoyed. “I see that it is useless evading the questions. 
There are sneaks and spies about the building. I shall 
complain to the landlord.” 

“Will you permit me to see that letter, Mr. Alston?” 
was the respectful query. 

“I cannot.” 

“Why?” 

“I have handed it to another person.” 

“To whom, may I ask?” 


68 


IN THE MESHES OF THE SIREN. 


“I decline to tell you, ’’was the angry reply. “Your 
manner is inquisitorial. I object to it. ” 

“I have kept this affair out of the papers, Mr. Alston, 
for your sake. In return, I expect something at your 
hands. Have you given the letter to the lady whom you 
know as Isabel?” 

“Curse your insolence, sir! I refuse to be cross-ques- 
tioned by you ! Put the story in the papers if you choose, 
and go to the devil!” 

Alston dashed into the club in a towering rage, while 
the detective looked after him, a strange smile on his face. 

“lam not to be bluffed,” he said, his eyes kindling, 
“and I shall keep that young fool in my eye. I have yet to 
be satisfied that he is not in the swim. ” 

He walked thoughtfully away, while Edgar was giving 
orders that a smart turn-out and a pair of spirited ponies 
be ready for his use at five-thirty, sharp. 

“Cursed annoying to be badgered by that thick-headed, 
self-important fool of a detective,” he growled, as he 
savagely bit off the end of a fresh cigar. 

He strolled into the smoking-room, feeling that he had 
acted foolishly. 

“The brute may suspect my goddess of being implicated 
in this affair next,” he muttered, “and give her endless 
annoyance, besides exposing me. I was a fool not to place 
a sop in his way ; and yet, when this sort of thing is once 
begun, this class of people expect it to go on forever. They 
become insolent pensioners for life!” 

He dropped on a lounge, at the same time glancing im- 
patiently at his watch. 


IN THE MESHES OF THE SIREN. • 69 

“A quarter-past five! In an hour I shall be whirling 
along with my darling beside me!” 

He felt a hand upon his shoulder, and turned in no 
gracious mood tc see Edward Hawley behind him. 

“Hullo, Ed!” he exclaimed. “I intended looking you up 
to-night. Only got back from Cincinnati yesterday even- 
ing.” There was something in the grave eyes of his friend 
that made him feel uneasy. “Sit down ^ and have a cigar. 
I can spare you five minutes — not more — a pressing engage- 
ment, you know.” 

Hawley sat down, and accepted the proffered cigar. 

At that moment there was the sharp clatter of horses’ 
hoofs on the street pavement, and Alston began to fidget 
uneasily. 

“You will excuse me, I know, old man,” he said. 

“Are those your ponies outside?” 

“Yes. Going for a spin. ” 

“With a lady?” 

“You don’t think I am going to take a pug dog, do 
you?” Alston laughed, evasively. 

“Sit down one minute, Edgar,” his friend said, calmly. 
“I wish to speak with you.” 

“Mind you, I will not give you more than a couple of 
minutes,” Edgar replied, impatiently. “And I would pre- 
fer that you wait until, say ten o’clock, when I will give 
you a call — on my honor, I will.” 

“It might he too late then, ” Hawley proceeded. “What 
I have to say is of the utmost importance. You must not 
go for this drive, Edgar.” 

“I must not, eh? Since when have you become my 
mentor, Edward Hawley?” was the savage retort. 


70 


IN THE MESHES OF THE SIKEN. 


“You are being fooled by the dancing woman known as 
Isabel Eussell, a creature whose character is as black as 
hell!” 

“Stop!” raved Alston, making a step forward. “Stop, I 
say, or I may forget the friendship that has existed be- 
tween us.” 

“I say that she is an infamous woman!” 

“Liar!” 

“Ask Stimson. Keason, reflect. Are you mad?” shouted 
Hawley, now realizing that his friend’s very nature had 
undergone some subtle change under the spells of the en- 
chantress. 

“In the future, Mr. Edward Hawley,” cried Alston, his 
eyes glittering like those of a wild beast, “our paths lie 
apart. You have seen fit to insult the woman I love, the 
woman who is to be my wife, and for this I will never 
forgive you!” 

He started to leave the room, furiously shaking off the 
detaining hand that Hawley placed upon his arm. 

“Follow me, and I will shoot you as I would a dog, you 
accursed medler !” was his parting snarl. 

Hurrying from the club, he seized the reins from the 
man -Who was minding the ponies, and sprang into the 
carriage, drove rapidly away, a hundred fires raging 
within him. 

“At last,” he muttered, “things will have to be precipi- 
tated — there must be an end to this espionage ! One would 
think that I was an irresponsible child. I will tell Isabel 
all. I will gather from her lips what she expects of me, 
and it shall be done — I swear it!” 

Being nearly half an hour in advance of the time agreed 


IN THE MESHES OF THE SIKEN. 


71 


upon, he drove toward the park, planning in his fevered 
mind how he should best approach his father in this 
matter that was life and death to him. 

Promptly at six o’clock the spirited ponies were pulled 
up before the brown-stone apartment house in Park 
avenue, and ten minutes later the delighted fool was 
arranging the wraps about a graceful female figure, cov- 
ered with costly furs — that were not paid for, and stood to 
the debit side of Mr. Edgar Alston ! A pair of glorious 
black eyes were beaming upon him, and he felt that the 
world were well lost even for this brief spell of ecstasy ! 

And when the ponies rattled away, their silver trap- 
pings hashing bravely under the glow of the electric 
lights, Alston dreamed not that two pairs of eyes were 
watching him. He was securely entangled in the meshes 
that the siren had woven about him, and he had no wish 
to be free ! 


72 


THE TONGUE-OF THE TEMPTKESS. 


BOOK TWO. 

LORD ST. LEONARDS. 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE TONGUE OP THE TEMPTRESS. 

Edgar Alston vowed that he had never enjoyed anything 
so much in the whole of his life as that ever memorable 
drive under the light of the stars and the moon. The ring 
of the horses’ feet on the hard earth echoed for weeks 
after, like a refrain of sweetest music. In his nostrils was 
the delicate perfume of violets — in his heart a maddening 
delight. 

“I have not thanked you for these lovely violets,” Isabel 
said, with a ravishing upward glance. She wore a great 
bunch of the sweet flowers on her gently swelling bosom. 

“You expressed a fondness for them,” Edgar said, 
simply. “Your lightest wish is my command. I live but 
to please you. ” 

His tones were full of passion — passion blazed in his 
eyes, and a ripple of the softest laughter left the siren’s 
lips. 

“You will spoil me, Edgar,” she whispered. 

It was not often that she used his name in this familiar 
w^ay, and bending suddenly, he pressed his lips to her 
vailed cheek. 


THE TONGUE OF THE TEMPTKESS. 


73 


“I spoil you?” lie said, rapturously. “Oh, Isabel, I am 
afraid at times that I shall wake to find this happiness an 
illusion!” 

The pace of the ponies had been checked, and they were 
traveling steadily in the direction of Harlem. 

“Do you love me so much, then?” she asked, softly. 

“Isabel — Isabel 1 Why will you madden me? Do you not 
see that I am bound up in you eternally for good or evil? 
No matter how desperate the sacrifice I am called upon to 
make, I shall deem it a trifie light as air if I can hut call 
you my own ! I wdll not deceive you, Isabel. By wedding 
you, I shall lose my father’s friendship — I can call it noth- 
ing more — hut, what is of more value still, my sister’s 
love. Our meetings cannot longer he kept secret. I have 
to-day been reproached by a man whom I once called 
friend, but who I would now shoot as coolly as if he were 
a dog if he dared ” 

“If he dared?” she repeated, her eyes scintillating. 
“What has he already dared to do?” 

“My darling, it does not matter.” 

“I say that I will know, ’’Isabel Kussell replied. “Oh, 
it is cruel that I should be so persecuted because I have 
had to earn my living — because I have been a common 
danseuse!” 

She affected to cry softly, and Alston’s disengaged arm 
stole round her slender waist. . 

“The moment a woman stands before the foot-lights,” 
she went on, wuth a dash of anger, “her virtue is gone. 
She is a creature either to be sneered at, or made the 
sport of every man who likes to pour his insulting words 
in her ears. If she is handsome, women hate her, and the 


74 


THE TONGUE OF THE TEMPTEESS. 


men whom she ignores make light of her name in a spirit 
of revenge. Oh, the mean, pitiful things ! If you listen to 
their wicked tongues, Mr. Alston — if you for one moment 
doubt me — have no wish to see you again, though it will 
break my heart!” 

“Isabel, my darling!” Alston cried. “I have not listened. 
Though the man who spoke unkindly of you has been my 
life-long friend, I threatened to shoot him dead at my feet, 
and, by Heaven, I would have done it! The man was 
Hawley, the scenic artist at the Frivolity. He adopted the 
role of sentimental friendship — curse his impudence!” 

“Ah!” replied Isabel. “I am sure that if he knew me 
better, he would he my friend, against his employer, Mr. 
Stimson ! But what does he know of me beyond the fact 
that I am a defenseless woman — that you are his friend? I 
am a singer — a dancer — you are a gentleman! Oh, my 
Heaven ! it is cruel ! cruel ! This man Stimson knew me in 
Chicago. I made my dehut there, and he paid me unwel- 
come attentions. I spurned him, and now you see what 
his motives are.” 

“The coward!” gritted fiercely through Alston’s teeth. 
“He shall answer to me! I will thrash him! Will you give 
me the right?” 

“No, no, Edgar; for my sake, no! He is not worth it— 
he is not worth the danger into which it would lead you.” 

“Danger?” he ejaculated, scornfully. “I am not ac- 
counted a coward, Isabel. I must protect your honor ! To 
insult you is worse than a personal insult offered to my- 
self.” 

“I repeat that he is not worth it. Pay no attention to 
his slanderous tongue. When I called at the Frivolity, I 


THE TONGUE OF THE TEMPTBEbiS. 75 

did not dream of meeting him. It was a terrible shock to 
me.” 

Alston turned the ponies’ heads, saying: 

“I am that man’s enemy. If we meet he shall feel my 
vengeance!” 

“But do not let me come between you and Mr. Haw- 
ley, ” Isabel whispered. “His mind has been poisoned 
against me. He was only acting the part of a faithful 
friend by trying to warn you. Oh, I am a dreadful 
creature!” 

She nestled closer to him, and his heart was thrilled to 
madness. 

“It is sufficient that Hawley has spoken evil of you,” he 
said; “therefore all is at an end between us. For your 
sake, I will sever every connection of the past. We will 
fly to the old world together ! My father is nothing to me. 
I hate him for standing in my way. My sister I love, but 
brotherly love is forgotten in the unfathomable passion 
that we feel for each other.” 

“But, Edgar, dear, do not forget that we are both poor — 
do not ” 

“I have thought of that,” he growled, half-savagely, 
“and am content to lose all else but you. I will face my 
father at once, Isabel, and his maudlin dreams must come 
to an end. If he will not acknowledge you — if he will not 
provide for us — I will kill him !” 

She shuddered, and clung to his arm beseechingly . 

“No, no, Edgar! Oh, you must not frighten me in this 
way ! You must not speak to your father yet. Can we not 
obtain money in some other way? You have free access to 
your father’s coffers. You are his only son ; it is yours by 


76 


THE TONGUE OF THE TEMPTRESS. 


right — at least half of his possessions. But, hush , what 
am I saying? I know so little of business and the ways of 
the world.” 

“How much would tempt you?” he demanded, hoarsely. 

“Tempt me?” she laughed. “How strangely you look 
and talk, Edgar ! Your father is worth many millions. He 
is one of the greatest of New York’s magnates. I heard 
his name even in far-away Chicago. Surely he would not 
begrudge you a few thousands ! I know that we should not 
want more ! If I were content to marry you while you 
have nothing, the pinch would come sooner or later, and 
you would begin to hate me. ” 

“Hate you?” 

“In time. Oh, darling, with all your knowledge of the 
world, your are hut a child in these things ! You have never 
known the misery of being poor, and I will never drag you 
into that horrible mire — because I love you too well.” 

He seized one of her hands, and pressed it madly to his 
lips. 

“A few thousands!” he muttered. “A few thousands! 
You would never crave for more, my queen? Swear that 
you will he mine if I lay this sum at your feet!” 

“It is not for me alone,” she whispered. “Is it not for 
both — is it not to make us eternally happy? Edgar, the 
day that the money .is yours, why need we longer delay? 
It will he sufficient — more than sufficient for our simple 
needs. We can live in Paris, in Rome, in London. Life 
will be an elysium!” 

“A few thousands ! Ay, fifty thousand! I swear that 
it shall he yours, darling — even if I had to rake hell itself!” 

A Satanic smile flashed into her glorious eyes. 


THE TONGUE OF THE TEMPTRESS. 77 

“Hush, dear! There must be no risks— ruo unpleasant- 
ness — or I cannot accept so many sacrifices at your hands. 
I know that you love me — I know that you are all the 
world to me ; but there must be no scandal, at least until 
we are beyond its wrath, or it would kill me. Things must 
be so arranged that we shall be thousands of miles away 
before any loss is discovered, if you are forced in ex- 
tremities to take a little of what is rightfully yours.” 

Ho listened to the voice of the temptress — a devil in his 
heart. He felt that his father — the father whom he had 
always loved and respected, was a hateful impediment. He 
cursed his very name I 

“Why should he stand between me and happiness?” he 
thought, furiously. “Why should he stand between me 
and the woman I love? I am no longer a child, and have 
been a weak fool even to give tacit consent to his selfish 
aspirations.” 

Then he spoke aloud, his tones husky with emotion : 

“It shall be done, Isabel; love will find the way! I think 
that in my desperation I shall become cunning ! I will 
make no blunder !” 

She was satisfied, and the pressure of one of her little 
hands thrilled him through and through. 

“You will come in, will you not?” she said, when they 
were nearing Park avenue. As though he could resist ! 
“My Aunt Judith has arrived, and I must introduce you. 
She already knows that you are my favored lover. I could 
not keep that!” 

There was a happy note in her tones — a mocking light 
in her flashing eyes. If the infatuated fool had known the 

truth I 


78 THE TONGUE OF THE TEMPTRESS. 

“lam almost sorry that Aunt Judith has come!” lie re- 
plied. “I shall feel that some one is spying upon us.” 

She laughed merrily. 

“Eight o’clock! I did not think that we had been out 
so long.” 

“The time has gone on fairy wings. It is ever so when 
we are happy!” 

He pulled up the ponies, and assisted Isabel to alight, 
saying: 

“I will take these animals to the stables. Expect me 
hack again in twenty minutes. Au revoir!” 

Isabel kissed the tips of her fingers to him, and he did 
not remove his eyes from her until she had vanished 
within the portals of the building. 

“She is like some choice exotic,” he thought. “No won- 
der that men worship at her shrine. It is perhaps best 
that this ogre of an aunt has come upon the scene to take 
care of one so beautiful. I shall never feel satisfied until 
she is mine, lest she be spirited away!” 

The very suggestion of losing her sent a deadly chill into 
his heart. 

Having surrendered the ponies and the carriage, he was 
taken back to Park avenue in a cab, and went through a 
formal introduction to the aunt of his goddess, who eyed 
him unobserved behind her smoke-colored spectacles. 

“Jove!” thought Alston; “one would think it impossible 
for this tall, masculine-looking woman to be a blood 
relative of my goddess!” 

Aunt Judith retired after supper, and Edgar was not 
agreeably surprised to discover that Isabel Russell could 


THE TONGUE OF THE TEMPTKESS. 79 

take absinthe after her coffee in proportions equal to his 
own, hut there was something immensely bewitching in 
the way she smoked her cigarettes. 

When he thought of his gentle sister, he fancied her 
horror of a scene like this. But why make comparisons? 
Beside this splendid creature, Minnie was but a rush-light 
before the moon ! Here was a woman of passions as strong 
as his own — a woman whose very presence swayed him 
into adoring submission. 

So deeply was he sated with the follies — with the in- 
dulgencies that ever prostitute themselves before young 
men of fashion, weak of purpose and gilded with the dross 
that makes happiness and misery — so deeply sated was he 
that nothing would have a;ppealed to his senses. Nothing 
would have satisfied his fierce desires for change, had it 
not been full of unhealthy excitement. 

This woman, with her splendid beauty, her rare figure, 
her loud laughter and alluring ways, intoxicated him 
with madness. His finer instincts told him that he dis- 
approved of the cigarettes, that the liquors which she 
drank so readily were scarcely in keeping with the future 
Mrs. Edgar Alston. Yet he was powerless to stay his mad 
career. He would not if he could, and he knelt at her feet 
and poured out his passion again and again. 

“Isabel, within two weeks you shall be mine for ever- 
more!” he said, fiercely. “Do you know what bitterness it 
is to have to leave you? Heavens 1 I cannot stand it ! And I 
have to meet my father with a smiling face and agony in 
my heart— the agony of a bitter suspense!” 

“Then let it nerve you to be up and doing, Edgar,” was 
the siren’s reply. “There is danger in delay. If he be- 


80 


THE TONGUE OF THE TEMPTRESS. 


comes suspicious, lie may set a -watch upon you, and then 
I shall have caused your ruin!” 

“Why will you not marry me now?” he demanded, 
feverishly. “We could then face him, and when he saw 
that it was useless, he ” 

“Would show us both the door !” was the mocking re- 
joinder. “No, Edgar; if we were so mad, it would end in 
my having to dance and sing in public to support us both 
in rags and squalor.” 

She went to the piano, and after running her deft fingers 
along the keys, sang these words in ravishing strains : 

“To-day, dearest, is ours ; 

Why should love carelessly lose it? 

This life shines or lowers, 

Just as we, weak mortals, use it. 

" ’Tis time enough, when its flowers deca-» 

To think of the thorns of sorrow ; 

And joy, if left on the stem to-day. 

May wither before to-morrow. 


“Then, why, dearest, so long 
Let the sweet moments fly over ? 

Though now blooming and young. 

Thou hast me devoutly thy lover. 

Yet time from both in his silent lapse, 
borne treasure may steal or borrow ; 

Thy charms may be less in bloom, perhaps. 
Or I less in love to-morrow !” 


Alston scarcely knew how he reached home that night. 
He had the sweet remembrance of a clinging kiss. He had 
turned suddenly in the door-way, and caught his goddess 
in a fierce embrace, and been surprised by Aunt Judith 
appearing before them. But it did not matter. Aunt 
Judith knew that they were engaged lovers— that they 
would soon be bound together by the laws of God and 
man. 

If 


THE TONGUE OF THE TEMPTKESS. 81 

There was only this between them — a few paltry thou- 
sands! And that? He laughed insanely as he reeled 
through the streets. He clinched his hands fiercely, and 
there was the fire of a desperate resolve in his heart ! 

When the door had closed behind him, when his echoing 
feet were heard in the street below. Aunt Judith tossed 
aside her spectacles and growled. 

“Isabel, I felt like hurling that fool down stairs 1 I don’t 
know how I am to endure this sort of thing much longer!” 

“Shall I tell you how long, Gilbert?” smiled the siren. 
“Shall I tell you how long? He says that it is to be two 
weeks, and I will keep him to his word — I will keep him 
to his word!” 

She hissed the last words. 

Gilbert Eoseberry looked at her admiringly. 

“And then?” he whispered. 

“Fifty thousand dollars! Perhaps more! I expect Palmer 
here to-morrow. From him I shall learn my chances with 
the old man. I will use this young fool until I have a firm 
hold on the elder one. I must give my fish plenty of line!” 

She laid her hands on his shoulders, and said, anxiously: 

“If you are in doubt, Gilbert — if you think that the 
police are likely to track you, why not go away in advance 
of me? I have money enough to send you away royally, 
thanks to young Alston.” 

“No, ” he replied, determinedly. “It is bad enough to 
endure this torture while I am near you ; but, away ! — I 
should go mad! Besides, every port is being watched. 
There is a big reward offered for my apprehension. I am 
honored with a couple of columns in a sensational even- 
ing paper, with a portrait that will save me if anything 


1 


82 


THE TONGUE OF THE TEMPTRESS. 


will ! Until the sensation has died out, I am safer in New 
York than anywhere else.” 

“You will meet Palmer on friendly terms?” she asked. 
“He is working hand and glove with us. We cannot afford 
to do without him. ” 

He frowned savagely. 

“You know that I hate the fellow, that we are sworn 
foes ! He sold me last time. By the living God, I believe 
that he put the police onto me, so that he could have you 
to himself!” 

“Gilbert, you do him an injustice. But for his help you 
would not have been here now. Without him my present 
schemes will become childish. I am playing to win a for- 
tune, so that we may live in clover for the rest of our 
days. You know that I love only you — at least, in this J 
am faithful.” 

“Have I ever doubted you, darling?” he asked, brokenly. 
“I only hate and fear Mitford Palmer. I won you from 
him, and he has followed us like a sleuth-hound, professing 
friendship. He is as subtle as the devil !” 

“Our instincts are one now,” she told him, her face 
blanching before the deadly fire in his eyes. “He shares 
equally with me — with us. A paltry few thousands to 
divide will not satisfy me when there is so much to 
scheme for. ” 

She laughed shrilly, her red lips parting and showing 
two rows of gleaming white teeth. 

Gilbert Boseberry paced the floor with uneasy strides. 

“It would be safer, ” he muttered, “to quit at once with 
hardly a dollar in our pockets. If he betrayed me at the 
last, Isabel — if he betrayed me at the last. ” 


THE TONGUE OF THE TEMPTKESS. 83 

“Then I would shoot him dead, or bury a dagger in his 
heart with my own hand!” she hissed. “Do you hear me, 
Gilbert, and do you think I would falter?” 

She drew herself up to her full height, her great eyes 
blazing, her white hands clinched. 

“No, I don’t think you would, Isabel.” 

At that moment the door opened, and Lucy announced 
that Mr. Mitford Palmer was without. 

“Show him in,” said Isabel Russell, calmly. 


84 


A LIVELY SCHEME. 


CHAPTER Vni. 

A LIVELY SCHEME. 

Mitford Palmer came into the room with a swift, cat- 
like tread. He glanced at Roseherry, smiled at his dis- 
guise, and walked forward with outstretched hand. 

“I am glad that you are out, old man,” he said. “We 
are friends, I hope?” 

“ Yes, ” was the somewhat surly re j oinder. ‘ ‘ I have half- 
douhted you, hut Isabel speaks in your favor. ” 

“I have done all I could for you,” Palmer said; “and I 
will make no promises for the future. Actions speak 
louder than words. It is childkh to nurse an old grievance. 
But for the fact of young Alston being so near to you, 
after your escape, I should have ventured to your relief, 
dangerous though the experiment might have been. The 
cipher in the Herald told you that.” 

“Yes,” admitted Roseherry. 

He held out his hand now, and the other shook it 
heartily. 

“I ran the risk of receiving your letters at Brooklyn, so 
that Isabel should never be suspected of aiding you. ” 

Roseherry glanced at him swiftly, and remarked : 

“You always were very considerate where my wife was 
concerned.” 

“Let that pass, old man. I am not going to quarrel with 
you. I have never done time myself yet, but others have 


A LIVELY SCHEME. 


85 


told me that it sours the best of men. I have your letter 
here still, and in answer to it put the cipher in the New 
York Herald. . I rented a furnished room at the address 
you wrote to in Brooklyn, and was supposed to he an old 
woman who went out washing by the day. I passed the 
place out of curiosity this morning, and observed that it 
was in the hands of the police.” 

He laughed lightly. 

“You have my last letter?” asked Roseberry. “I should 
like to see it once more and then destroy it.” 

“It is yours,” replied Palmer, taking from his pocket- 
book an artfully constructed enigmatical letter headed 
“Frankfort State Prison,” at which Roseberry gazed with 
mixed emotions. 

Attached to it was a solution of the puzzle in the hand- 
writing of Isabel, which read as follows : 

“Shall escape midnight of tenth, and board freight car 
to tunnel between Covington and Bridgley.” 

“That cost me many hours to construct, ” he laughed. 
“My warden was all right, but one never knows to whom 
the letters are submitted before they are sent to the mail.” 

“You had assistance from the inside?” suggested 
Palmer, adding quickly, “and outside, too. I hope that 
you appreciate the fact that I have put my head in the 
noose equally with you, and that we pull together now, 
for good or evil?” 

“I have yet to learn what schemes are on foot. I must 
admit that your appearance is vastly improved by the dye 
in your hair and mustache. Dark-brown is preferable to 
red at any time, and a face the type of yours is the better 
for being half-hidden by a carefully trimmed beard.” 


86 


A LIVELY SCHEME. 


“Thanks! You would have passed me in the street with- 
out a nod of recognition?” 

“I certainly should. You appear to he in. clover,” Rose- 
berry said, scanning the other from head to foot, and let- 
ting his eyes rest upon a flashing diamond stud in the 
spotless shirt-front. 

“Yes,” responded Mitford Palmer, airily. “I wonder if 
my lady will permit smoking in this bower of roses? I 
have some rare cigars here worth half a dollar apiece. Try 
one?” 

Roseberry gazed hungrily at the fragrant tobacco, say- 
ing: 

“Imported?” 

“Yes, choice Havanas. Mr. Jabez Alston is one of those 
rabid Americans who spend their money on foreign goods. 
His clothes are made by a London tailor, his furniture, his 
horses, his dogs, are all imported. Now his great idea is 
to purchase a dilapidated castle from some bankrupt noble- 
man in England, marry his two children to titled British- 
ers, because the United States is no fit place for a gentle- 
man to live in ! Ha ! ha ! By the way, his respected marnma 
sold bananas in the days of her youth in the streets of this 
city.” 

“You may have no scruples about smoking here, gentle- 
men, ” Isabel said, with one of her silvery laughs. “The 
lace curtains are already redolent with tobacco smoke ! 
What will you take to drink? My sideboard is well- 
stocked, and I can serve the liquors in cut glass de- 
canters which sparkle in unison with our own bright 
spirits. All at the expense of the generous Mr. Edgar 
Alston!” 


A LIVELY SCHEME. 


87 


She tripped away, flashing upon the men one of her be- 
wildering glances, and Roseberry gazed at his companion 
in wonderment. 

“You speak of Jabez Alston, the father of the young fool 
whom Isabel is fleecing, as a personal friend,” he said, 
biting the end off his cigar. 

“You have hit it exactly, but let me continue my story 
in the presence of Isabel. What do you think of these 
Havanas?” 

“Dusedly good!” 

The table was soon sparkling with glass and wines of 
the choicest vintage, and while the men talked, Isabel re- 
clined on a satin divan, eagerly watching every expression 
of their faces. 

“It is all summed up in a nut-shell, ” proceeded Palmer. 
“Not knowing which way to turn a few weeks since, I was 
walking down Broadway, praying that I might meet a 
confederate whom I could trust to assist me in playing a 
new confldence trick which my fertile brain had just 
evolved, when I was tapped on the shoulder by a stranger. 
I am too old a hand to start or change a hair, although I 
expected to come face to face with a detective, though I 
was pretty sure of my present disguise, and generally 
manage to cover my tracks.” 

“You are right there,” was the sarcastic observation 
from Roseberry. 

“Well, you can imagine my astonishment, ” proceeded 
Palmer, as though unmindful of the interruption, “when 
I found myself being addressed as St. Leonards, by Mr. 
Terhune, the up-town banker. By sight, I knew him well, 
and in an instant it flashed upon me that I really did re- 


88 


A LIVELY SCHEME. 


semble Lord St. Leonards, a sportively inclined peer of the 
British realm, who came out here to look for an American 
heiress last fall, and is now in Australia.” 

Roseberry whistled, and his eyes sparkled with in- 
terest. 

“I have elbowed Lord St. Leonards more than once at 
the Derby and Doncaster races ; I have met him behind 
the scenes at the London Gayety, and being an English- 
man, can imitate his drawl in a way that would deceive 
the devil himself.” 

Roseberry nodded, while Isabel indulged in merry 
laughter. 

Palmer eyed the burning tip of his cigar reflectively for 
a minute, then went on : 

“I looked the banker steadily in the eyes, to see if he 
was likely to discover his error, but found that he was 
energetically shaking my paw. 

“ ‘Bah, Jove, Terhune!’ I drawled. ‘Jolly glad to meet 
you. How are you, old chap?’ 

“He was delighted by my familiarity, and begged of me 
to lunch with him at Delmonico’s. The temptation was 
strong, for I hadn’t had a square meal for nearly forty- 
eight hours, but the fear of spoiling a good thing held me 
back. I hadn’t ten cents about me. My watch, chain, and 
rings had already sought repose in the pawnbroker’s safe, 
and the less said about my linen the better. 

“ ‘I thought that you had sailed for Australia last week 
in the Concordia, ’ he said. ‘You must really dine with me 
once before you leave New York. ’ 

“ ‘See you to-morrow morning at the bank, dear boy,’ I 
replied desperately. ‘Ta-ta!’ 


A LIVELY SCHEME. 


89 


*‘I had only one friend in whom I could confide — your 
wife, Koseberry — and together we elaborated a little 
scheme. She provided me with sufficient money to make 
a respectable showing, the idea being to tap the banker for 
as much as I could. With the regulation eye-glass of the 
British swell, and the exact tint of St. Leonards’ beard 
added to my own, a new suit of clothes, etc., and a slight 
stoop in the shoulders, I called upon the banker, having 
been careful in the meantime to trace the real St. Leon- 
ards’ movements. He had sailed for Australia with a 
party of friends. I explained that at the last moment I 
had decided not to go, and had not troubled to contradict 
the reports in the society papers, adding : 

“ ‘It is a dused relief, bah, Jove! not to be known!’ 

“I dined with the banker at his place in Fifth avenue, 
and two days later was introduced to the greatest financier 
in New York, Mr. Jabez Alston. I am now very much 
run after by that astute millionaire, because he wants me 
to marry his daughter ! And release my ancestral castle in 
England from the hands of the Jews ! He has diligently 
perused Debrett and Burke, and it is arranged that I en- 
tertain the Alston family at my London town house dur- 
ing the height of the season, introduce them to the cream 
of the beau monde, and make love to the charming Miss 
Minnie Alston ! In the meanwhile, Isabel has added the 
son to her train, and it depends upon coming events how 
we shall further shape our plans. I am keeping in direct 

touch with the elder Alston, while Isabel ” 

He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. 

“It is clever — devilishly clever,” said Roseberry, ad- 
miringly, “and well worth the risk. Isabel feels sure that 


00 


A LIVELY SCHEME. 


the young one is good for a substantial sum, but there are 
the chances that he will fail. What then?” 

“In any event she will get hold of the millionaire him- 
self !” replied Palmer, with a short laugh. “It would be 
madness for me to attempt to squeeze him for an amount 
worth having. This is the chance of our lives. Through 
the son we will reach the father, and if my faith in Isa- 
bel’s power is not at fault, there is no escape for him !” 

He turned his eyes toward the beautiful, smiling siren, 
and a fierce passion slumbered in their depths — a passion 
that had lived with him since he first beheld her. 

“And I am to play a passive part,” Roseberry grumbled. 
“It is rather unusual for me.” 

“The result of circumstances, old man, ” was Palmer’s 
soothing reply. “And there is really nothing for you to 
do but watch and wait. Then for freedom ! light hearts, 
and heavy purses!” 

They drank to the toast and continued the discussion 
until the small hours of the morning. 

“I will stay here and breakfast with you,” Palmer an- 
nounced, finally. “It would be bad policy to risk disturb- 
ing the janitor at this hour, and a shake-down anywhere 
will do for me.” 

When he was alone he shook his fist vengefully in the 
direction of Gilbert Roseberry, muttering : 

“Why did I help you from the State prison of Frank- 
fort — why did I cover your escape? Because I wished to 
propitiate her — the one woman for me, and to make sure 
that you do not escape me next time ! There is not room 
for both of us in this world, Gilbert Roseberry! You think 
that you will share in this scheme, eh? You think that 


A LIVELY SCHEME. 


91 


you will fly with her and a fortune! You may if I do nut 
contrive to have you put forever out of my imth ! Fool ! to 
dream for one moment that I would forego the revenge I 
have sworn to have?” 


92 


“I MUST BUY IHE PAINTED JEZEBEL!” 


CHAPTER IX. 

“l MUST BUY THE PAINTED JEZEBEL !” 

With Edgar Alston’s sober moments came a strong re- 
vulsion of feeling, and he viewed with terror the thoughts 
that were in his heart a few hours before. 

“What madness was in my blood?” he muttered. “I felt 
that I was capable of murder! My father has ever been 
good and kind to me. I have only his vanity to complain 

of a vanity which makes him selfish and careless of the 

happiness of his children.” 

He thought of his sister, and murmured : 

“Poor little girl! I know that she hates this St. Leon- 
ards, and cares for the scenic artist.” 

His lip curled, and his eye fiashed. 

“I can never call him friend again. Curse his insolence! 
Am I a child, to be tutored and warned by him? Isabel’s 
ways of living may be Bohemian ; but when we are mar- 
ried, all that I can correct. I have no wish to make an 
exile of myself, and that will only be the result of my 
very last resource. I will yet introduce the most beauti- 
ful woman in the world among the best blood of New York 
as my honored wife!” 

It was late when he ventured down stairs next morn- 
ing. His brain throbbed madly, and there were dark rings 
under his eyes. 

“Eleven o’clock!” he exclaimed to his sister who was 


“I MUST BUY THE PAINTED JEZEBEL!” 93 

regarding him with troubled eyes, for in her bosom re- 
posed a note from Edward Hawley. It read in this way : 

“My Darling: — It is an abominable shame that my first 
letter to you should contain anything but pleasant news, 
I saw Edgar at his club, and tried to remonstrate with 
him gently. It only maddened him. This Isabel Russell 
has him completely under her thumb. I never dreamed it 
possible for a man to become so infatuated with a bad 
woman. Our only course is to hunt up her antecedents, 
trusting that she is guilty of something which may put a 
bar between her and your headstrong brother. To this 
end Mr. Stimson is communicating with the police of 
Chicago. He says that she was mixed up with some 
scandal there, and had to fiy from the city. To appeal to 
your father would be useless, for Edgar would at once be- 
come desperate. I will call this afternoon at three o’clock. 

“Yours devotedly, 

‘ ‘ Edward Hawley. ’ ’ 

“Eleven o’clock!” repeated Minnie. “Oh, you lazy boy I 
Papa left an hour since for business.” 

“My head is on fire, ” Edgar groaned. “I think that I 
shall stay indoors to-day and recruit myself for steady 
work.” 

His sister glanced at him hopefully. 

“What am I to infer by that?” she asked. “Are you 
really going to give up all your doubtful acquaintances?” 

“Doubtful acquaintances?” he frowned. “I hope that I 
am not booked for another sermon ! If so, I will efface my- 
self instanter 1 I am just about sick of being preached to ! 
I am not ashamed of the people I call my friends, and if 
my relations are— well, they can be if they choose ! And 
look here. Miss Alston ! if you refer in a roundabout way 
to Miss Isabel Russell, understand that I don’t appreciate 
any remarks to the disparagement of the woman who is 
to be my wife— and your Sister-in-law, whether you like 
it or not.” 


94 


“I MUST BUY THE PAINTED JEZEBEL!’ 


He stamped across the floor and then felt half ashamed 
of himself when he saw the piteous look in Minnie’s eyes. 

“I am a brute, I know,” he went on, remorsefully, “but 
it is all because I have been misunderstood.” He meant 
that he had always been a wild, eccentric, vacillating fool. 
“Forgive me, little sister. ‘ I do not believe that I have a 
true friend in all the world besides you. And, see here ! if 
that Lord St. Leonards annoys you, by Heaven I’ll break 
his infernal neck!” 

Minnie laughed outright now. 

“He does not annoy me,” she said, truthfully. “So far 
papa appears to be of more interest to him than any one 
else.” 

“That’s one point in his favor. I won’t have you 
badgered by the impecunious British ape! He’s after 
money ; and if he manages to scoop a hatful, it will cure 
the old man of his folly!” 

This appeared to be a brilliant idea, and Edgar deter- 
mined to cultivate the acquaintance of Lord St. Leonards 
for the purpose of ascertaining his exact financial con- 
dition. 

“Very likely got a wife in his eye, ” he added. “And if 
he can get an advance of ten thousand, he will clear out 
and leave us to ourselves, and papa repentant ! That’s his 
measure!” 

Minnie was regarding him seriously again, and he 
fidgeted uneasily in his chair. 

“Yes,” he went on, “I have told you her name, Minnie, 
because I intend facing the matter out with my father. 
She is none other than Isabel Russell, the actress, but 
none the less a perfect lady, and the most perfect woman 


“I MUST BUY THE PAINTED JEZEBEL!” 95 

on God’s earth. Talking of coronets — if she chose, she 
could have her pick of a dozen ! hut she prefers your wild, 
erratic brother to all the men she has ever seen, and with- 
in two weeks will he my wife. If my father turns me up, 
then I shall appeal to Aunt Eadcliffe ! In time all will come 
right.” 

He spoke cheerfully until he remembered the words of 
Edward Hawley, ‘‘An infamous woman!” 

‘‘There is one man,” he said, “whom I can never for- 
give, painful though it may he to you, Minnie ! But for 
me he might have been begging on the streets, and his 
gratitude is of the old sort! The viper that you’ve nur- 
tured turns and stings at the first opportunity.” 

Minnie’s face had grown pale, and there was fire in her 
eyes. 

“Edgar,” she replied, “if you cannot he generous, at 
least he just. It is despicably mean to speak in such terms 
of one who has been a faithful friend to you.” 

He glared at her. 

“What do you know of this?” 

“I will have no secrets from you. I wrote to Mr. Haw- 
ley to inform me who this Isabel was of whom you have 
talked so much lately. He came ” 

“And made love to you!” sneered her brother, savagely, 
his eyes exulting when the hot blood fiushed her neck and 
face. “H’m! I thought so. Very artful of you, I am sure. 
You interfere in my love affairs for the sake of making a 
few steps forward with your own ! Eeally, I think that 
papa would sooner accept Isabel Russell as a daughter-in- 
law than the poverty-stricken Edward Hawley as your 
husband. So he did your bidding yesterday. Miss Alston ! 


96 “I MUST BQY THE PAINTED JEZEBEL 1” 

And I hold you in the same contempt that I hold him, the 
pitiful sneak!” 

Without waiting for a reply, he dashed out of the 
house, and a minute later his outraged sister saw him 
walking swiftly in the direction of Broadway. 

After wandering about aimlessly for an hour, he drove 
to Park avenue, and the hour being rather early for a 
call, he sent up his card to Isabel Bussell, by the janitor. 
The latter soon returned, saying that the lady was out. 

“Do you know when she will he home again?” he asked. 
He pressed a douceur in the shape of a five-dollar bill into 
the man’s hand. 

“It’s my belief that she is still abed,” the janitor whis- 
pered. “I saw lights burning in the rooms the best part 
of the night. There’s no reason for you to mention any- 
thing, sir, because we don’t want to offend a tenant who 
pays the rent promptly.” 

He did not know that he was speaking to the man who 
paid for everything. 

“The lady had a visitor, sir,” the janitor added, with a 
smile. 

‘ ‘ Y es — yes ! Her aunt. ’ ’ 

“No, sir! It was a gentleman— a regular swell! Dark 
beard and mustache, and eye-glasses. He staid all night, 
I guess, for I saw him slipping out pretty early this morn- 
ing.” 

You are sure of this?” demanded Alston, hoarsely. 

“No mistake, sir. I took him up to the lady’s rooms last 
night just after you left, and he didn’t leave till eight 
o’clock this morning while I was sweeping out the vesti- 
bule.” 


‘1 MUST BUY THE PAINTED JEZEBEL !’ 


97 


“Heavens!” gasped Alston, jealous and furious. “But, 
pshaw! there must be some mistake!” 

He went into the street with reeling brain. 

“Some of her actor acquaintances! The fellow did not 
stay all night. I will never believe it. A swell with a 
brown beard and mustache. Eye-glasses ! I shall know 
him again ! I will shoot him dead ! I will go back in an 
hour.” 

He turned in the direction of his club, and having found 
a corner free from observation, ordered some brandy, and 
half a dozen cigars. His nerves were completely shattered. 

“The fellow did not stay all night, ” he repeated again 
and again. “The janitor was mistaken. No, no, it cannot 
be!” 

He could not forget Hawley’s words, “An infamous 
woman !” They rang in his ears incessantly, and he hated 
the friend of his boyhood for it. A sudden inspiration 
caused him to leap to his feet with a savage oath. Had 
Edward Hawley dared to call upon Isabel Russell — had he 
dared to warn her at the instance of the manager of the 
Frivolity? But Hawley wore no beard, and his mustache 
was fair — almost golden. 

“Yet it is some of his interference,” he decided, wrath- 
fully. “He sent some fellow who failed to see Isabel last 
night and called again this morning.” 

Though he argued with himself in this specious way, it 
gave him no real satisfaction. He would know no peace 
until he had seen Isabel Russell. 

More brandy was supplied him, and he experienced a 
warm relief from its generous fire. 

He was lighting a second cigar, when he heard his name 


98 “I MUST BUY THE PAINTED JEZEBED!” 

mentioned, and saw St. Leonards speaking to an attend- 
ant. 

“Heavens!” he muttered. “A regular swell! Brown 
beard and mustache, and eye-glasses! His description 
exactly ! Can he have been doing the amiable spy for the 
governor?” 

“Hallo! Alston!” drawled his lordship. “So there you 
are, hah Jove! I was just passing, you know, and as you 
generally hang out here, I thought I would ask for you. 
How are you, dear hoy?” 

“Seedy — dused seedy! Sit down. What will you take?” 

Alston had hitherto treated Lord St. Leonards with 
scant respect, hut he had now a two-fold object in view in 
being as civil as possible. 

“Aw — a small glass — a liqueur glass of green chartreuse, 
dear hoy. Splendid tonic, hah Jove! I have some cigars — 
thanks ! Two of those choice Havanas your papa gave to 
me.” 

“What’s his game?” thought Alston. “Can it he a 
chance call?” 

They smoked in silence for a few minutes, then Alston 
blurted out. 

“See here, St. Leonards. Do you know a lady named 
Russell?” 

His lordship started slightly, then smiled blandly. 

“Do I know a lady named Russell?” he repeated. “Cer- 
tainly, dear hoy, at least half a dozen.” 

“Here — in New York?” 

Alston’s tones were imperative. He had drank too 
much brandy to preserve his caution for any length of 
time. Under the most favorable circumstances he was no 


“I MUST BUY THE PAINTED JEZEBEL!” 99 

jiatch for^ the man who called himself Lord St. Leon- 
ards. 

“In New York,’’ smiled his lordship. “You are narrow- 
ing the limits, dear boy, and I do not think I am obliged 
to answer you. ’ ’ 

“I insist!’’ cried Alston. “By heavens! I will take no 
equivocation. A lady’s honor is at stake!’’ 

“Then the matter does not concern me in the least, Mr. 
Alstom” was the haughty rejoinder. “And, bah Jove, I 
object to your vulgar manner. On the race-course such 
language is tolerated, but not in private clubs whose mem- 
bers should be gentlemen!’’ 

He rose languidly to his feet, and again the janitor’s 
words flashed into Alston’s mind, “Dark beard and mus- 
tache, and eye-glasses!” 

“My lord,” he said, with a desperate effort to be calm, 
“pardon my impetuosity. I have reasons — very strong 
reasons — for asking you this question. You have admitted 
knowing a lady named Russell ” 

“Several ladies,” corrected Lord St. Leonards, smilingly. 

“Now will you answer me solemnly and truthfully, as 
man to man — are you acquainted with Miss Isabel Russell, 
at present residing in Park avenue?” 

Alston glared at his companion, while the latter adjusted 
his eye-glass, and replied, frigidly: 

“Mr. Alston, the lady you mention is an acquaintance— 
a valued .friend, bah Jove! Be careful what you say, sir!’’ 

He looked threateningly at Edgar, adding, fiercely : 

“No man shall insult her in my presence.” 

“You went to her apartments late last night?” persisted 
Alston. 


100 


“I MUST BUY THE PAINTED JEZEBEL !” 


“I did, but she had either not arrived home from her 
professional duties, or had retired, I forget which.” 

Hope began to rise in Alston’s heart. 

“I went away,” concluded his lordship, “and left my 
card again this morning. I haven’t seen Miss Russell for 
three years. I was then in Chicago, and her people were 
in affluent circumstances. She was in society, and the 
belle of Chicago. I might have fallen in love with her, as 
every other man did, had she not put an end to my aspira- 
tions in short order. After that we were fast friends, and 
I only saw in the Dramatic Mirror yesterday morning that 
she had apartments in Park avenue. Now, sir, what rriore 
have you to say?” 

“Sit down, St. Leonards,” Alston replied, huskily. “You 
are a brick, and no mistake. Until now I have not felt 
very kindly toward you, but I believe from this moment 
that we shall be close friends.” 

“Aw — I do not admire your advances !” was the haughty 
reply of the aristocrat. “In turn, my dear sir, I must re- 
quest that you explain your enigmatical remarks concern- 
ing a lady whom I honor, even if she is — aw — forced to earn 
her living on the stage. ” 

“Bless you for those words. Lord St. Leonards; I will 
not forget them readily ; and if I can forward any wushes 
of yours, by Heaven, you can command me!” 

“To the devil with Hawley!” was his inward thought. 
“The governor was right in his estimate of this man after 
all!” 

“You have ” 

“One moment,” interrupted Alston. “To be brief. Miss 
Isabel Russell is my afflanced wife’” 


“I MUST BUY THE PAINTED JEZEBEL !*’ 101 

Lord St. Leonards fell back a pace, a cry of astonish- 
ment escaping him involuntarily. 

‘ ‘ Bah Jo ve ! No I Keally , I am astounded ! ’ ’ 

“And when the lunatic old janitor told me this morn- 
ing that a man — describing you — had spent the night in 
Miss Russell’s apartments, I Tvas furious, though I did 
not believe a word of it.” 

“You ought not to have listened! If Miss Russell knew 
that you had suspected her, she would never forgive you, 
bah Jove! Her pride is devilish. Never saw a woman who 
could stand off a man as she can. Magnificent creature, 
bah Jove!” 

Alston smiled proudly. She belonged to him. She was 
never cold to him ! 

“You will say not one word of this?” he pleaded. “And 
it may be — it may be that we can materially assist each 
other. Have another drink. Come ! it won’t hurt you. ” 

His lordship demurred, but finally consented to take 
another glass of chartreuse. 

“So she is the lady of your choice” he said, “though 
not of your father’s!” 

A dark fiush mounted to Edgar Alston’s cheek. 

“You may be able to help me in this, ” he said. “And I 
can infiuence my sister in your favor. There is nothing 
between you but a beggarly scene-painter.” He laughed 
maliciously. “You know my father’s pet scheme. He has 
a horror of women connected with the .stage, and so far I 
have not dared to mention Miss Russell to him. He would 
listen to you, though— you who have known her so long, 
and can vouch for her excellent family connections.” 

“My dear fellow, I will do my best for you — fact; but 


102 


“I MUST BUY THE PAINTED JEZEBEL!” 


your father is a man of very pronounced opinions. In 
assisting you, I may ruin my own cause. I am fond of 
your sister — extremely,” drawled St. Leonards. “You are 
a man, Alston, and should not be accountable to a father 
for your actions. Marry the lady, and to the duse with 
him!” 

“I am dependent upon his bounty,” hissed Edgar, 
savagely. “And she — I cannot blame her — has given me 
to understand that it would be folly to wed on nothing. ” 

“On nothing? Aren’t you a partner in the firm of 
Alston & Co.?” St. Leonards demanded, in surprise. 

“A partner?” snarled Edgar. “No! a pauper, if my 
father says so!” 

“Bah Jove!” ejaculated his lordship. “Look here, dear 
boy ! there is only one way of treating such a thoughtless 
father. Now look you! I am a man of the world. lam 
not a millionaire, but I have lost on the turf more than 
your father ever had, and my backing is still good. You 
are short of money, and you want to be independent of 
the old boy. I understand it. Say for six months. He’ll 
come round in six months, perhaps less. What is the 
amount you are short of? Speak freely, for I am in sym- 
pathy with you. ” 

There were tears of emotion in his lordship’s tones, and 
he grasped one of Alston’s hands warmly. 

“I want fifty thousand dollars!” blurted out Edgar. 

He expected to see St. Leonards appalled, but his lord- 
ship only smiled. 

“Is that all?” he said, indifferently. “Ten thousand 
pounds ! It does not sound much in pounds ! Tell your 
father the whole story— don’t mince matters— and if he 


“I MUST BUY THE PAINTED JEZEBEL !” 103 

turns up rough., and won’t find you the money, then I 
will!” 

“You?” 

He kissed St. Leonards’ hand. 

“But how am I ever to repay you?” 

“Don’t trouble about that. Don’t forget that I shall be 
your brother-in-law before the note becomes due. We will 
make it six months, and at the worst it can be renewed 
again for another six months, at six per cent. My man of 
business in London will forward the money through any 
banker in New York.” 

“But the delay?” Alston said, feverishly. 

“There will be little delay. You forget that I can cable. 
I can be very business-like when a friend is cornered! We 
Britishers are considered old and surly, but we have 
warm and constant hearts.” 

“I believe you!” gulped Alston, brokenly. “St. Leon- 
ards, you have taken a load from my heart. Do you know 
that I have been tempted to steal the money?” 

“Never!” 

His lordship was horrified. 

“I have been tempted to steal it. I have even felt that I 
could hurl my father from my path. I have almost cursed 
him ! At times my love for Isabel Russell amounts to 
frenzy!” • 

“Poor old chappie! To steal it would mean to be found 
out at once, bah Jove! You would not like the woman you 
adore to be arrested for receiving stolen money, eh? 
Pshaw ! The idea is childish. For her sake I would not 
permit you to do it. I am her friend!” 

“My Heaven! how I have misjudged you, St. Leon- 


104 “I MUST BUY THE PAINTED JEZEBEL!” 

ards ! I shall nev^r forgive myself ! But I will undo the 
past!” 

St. Leonards pressed his hand affectionately. 

“You were merely prejudiced against me, dear hoy. I 
have seen it all along. Now take my advice, and have it 
out with your father to-night. It is not manly to delay. 
Keep away from Miss Russell until it is settled. I will see 
Mr. Alston at his office, and put in a few words in advance. 
It will break the ice. Candidly, I do not believe that he 
will give his consent, and will rely upon the tight rein he 
has upon you to pull you in. One caution — he must not 
know that I am helping you with money. ” 

“I understand,” the poor dupe murmured, gratefully. 
“Heaven bless you! I will take your advice in all things, 
though I hardly know how I shall live without seeing my 
darling!” 

“All lovers feel that sort of thing, ” smiled the peer. “I 
did in the heyday of youth. I am nearly forty now, and 
consequently a little more philosophical. Your father 
lunches at two.” 

He glanced at his watch. 

“I shall just catch him. Now, obey me in all things, and 
the troubles shall all end as they do in the fairy stories. 
Promise.” 

“I promise,” replied Edgar. 

“And you will keep away from Park avenue until you 
have seen me to-morrow? Say at this place at noon?” 

“That will suit me,” Edgar said, wistfully, “though I 
should like to see Miss Russell before then. . A whole 
twenty-four hours!” 

“But you will not. The business in hand is too urgent. ” 


“I MUST BUY THE PAINTED JEZEBEL!” 105 

St. Leonards smiled. “You will report to me here 
to-morrow, and if Mr. Alston sees fit to carry matters with 
a high hand, you can do without him, dear boy. Ta-ta!” 

He shook hands with Edgar and stepped out of the 
room. After walking a couple of hundred yards, he hired 
a cab and drove to Park avenue in hot haste, where he 
held a short interview with Isabel. 

From Park avenue he was taken to Mr. Jabez Alston’s 
office, and met the great financier in the door- way drawing 
on his gloves. 

“This is a pleasant surprise. Lord St. Leonards,” ex- 
claimed Jabez Alston. He spoke loudly, so that others 
might hear that he was on familiar terms with a British 
peer. “You will lunch with me, I know!” 

“Yes!” replied St. Leonards, languidly. He had dis- 
missed his cab a couple of blocks away. 

“This is my coupe, ” announced the financier. ‘Twill 
take you to Delmonico’s. We shall not meet many of the 
Wall street gamblers there, and I have reasons for not de- 
siring to be too much in evidence for a few days. A big 
crisis is at hand which may ruin hundreds of the smaller 
fry.” 

He chuckled. 

“After this, if the cards run my way, as they most as- 
suredly will, I think I shall retire from business.” 

They drove away, and were sumptuously dined by the 
king of caterers. 

“Yeg,” Mr. Alston said, Qver his wine, “I shall quit 
business at once, and prepare for my trip to London, my 
lord. With this in view I have never seen the necessity 
for my son Edgar to settle down in harness. He has en- 


106 “I MUST BUY THE PAINTED JEZEBEL !” 

joyed himself ad libitum, and I have never stood in his 
way. I think young men are always better after being per- 
mitted for a time to go the pace without restraint — young 
men, I should say, who eventually inherit vast fortunes. 
If you chain a boy up, he rushes into excesses when he 
gains his freedom — excesses which appall those who are 
unshackled.” 

‘'Bah Jove!” said his lordship, enthusiastically. ‘‘When 
you do become my guest, you shall be treated royally, 
my dear sir ! I will show you what it is to live as gentle- 
men live who enjoy life to the full. An Englishman at 
sixty does not look so old as the average American at fifty. 
Too many hours, Mr. Alston, and too much grasping after 
the dollar ! They are in harness until old Charon comes 
to ferry their souls to the other shore ! In England the 
country grocer even strives to retire at sixty, and live 
somewhere away from the scene of his labors, where he 
potters in a strip of garden with a summer arbor at the 
end of it in which to smoke the pipe of peace!” 

“I believe you, ” the financier said. ‘‘And have no in- 
tention of harassing myself into the grave. In a couple of 
months I shall resign myself and my family to your care, 
my lord.” 

‘‘I am honored,” replied the peer, with a covert smile. 

They were driven back to the dingy ofiQce in Wall street, 
and then St. Leonards asked for five minutes’ privacy 
with the great magnate. Already a dozen men with hag- 
gard faces and glistening eyes were desiring an audience 
with him. 

“Certainly, my lord! Burrows,” to his confidential 
clerk, “do not let me be disturbed until I ring.” 


“I MUST BUY THE PAINTED JEZEBEL!” 107 

The clerk retired, and St. Leonards faced the financier. 

“Mr. Alston, I would not employ one minute of your 
time if I did not think it absolutely necessary, ’ ’ his lord- 
ship said. “You may think that I am presumptuous to in- 
terfere in what may, after all, be purely a family matter ; 
but I have not lost sight of the fact that you have confided 
to me some of your desires — that some day I may win the 
hand of your beauteous daughter. ’ ’ 

Jabez Alston smiled pleasantly, but he felt apprehensive. 

“What I have to say, sir, concerns your son. I regret 
almost that he should have confided in me, because it is 
my duty to at once inform you that he fancies himself in 
love with an actress — not only that, he is determined to 
marry her, and this evening will ask for your permission 
and a suitable settlement.” 

“Great Heaven!” gasped the financier. 

“You must meet him coolly — calmly — firmly. Do not let 
him suspect that I have done otherwise than break the 
news gently to you. I told him that it was my duty to do 
this.” 

“Thank you, my lord — thank you!” 

Jabez Alston paced the fioor in a frenzy of passion. 

“An actress!” he muttered. “The fool — the fool! I must 
take him away—or buy her off. ” Then he turned to St. 
Leonards. “What kind of creature is this actress, my 
lord?” 

“A handsome woman. I was in love with her myself 
once, bah Jove! or thought I was. There! I do not think 
that I need waste more of your time, Mr. Alston. You 
are now prepared to meet Edgar. It would have been 
awkward to have the bomb hurled at you unawares!” 


/ 


108 “I MUST BUY THE PAINTED JEZEBEL !” 

“You are very tliouglitful, and I shall not forget it, my 
lord.” 

Jabez Alston’s face was ijale, and his lips twitched ner- 
vously. 

“I have always feared something of this kind; hut an 
actress is worse than a girl clerk. Yes, there is only one 
way out of it, I fear. I must buy the painted Jezebel ! 
Curse the women, I say!” 

Lord St. Leonards took his leave, a sardonic smile on 
his face. 


ST. LEOxNABD’S ElNE HAND. 


109 


CHAPTER X. 

ST. LEONARDS’ FINE HAND. , ' 

After St. Leonards was gone, Edgar Alston almost 
hugged himself with delight. He did not for a moment 
doubt the nobleman’s ability to assist him. He had no 
reason to suspect him of treacherous dealings. The only 
point which he rebelled against was absenting himself 
from the woman who had enslaved him. 

“He will expect some return for this,” he thought, “and 
I shall ever consider myself his debtor ! And then his 
kind words concerning my darling ! Her connections are 
equal to my own, and now I defy the whole world ! What 
blessed news for Isabel!” 

He dispatched a messenger to the nearest telegraph 
office with the following: 

“Isabel- Russell, No. Park Avenue: — All is ar- 
ranged. I shall be with you to-morrow. E. A.” 

He smoked another cigar, and rehearsed again and again 
the scene that was to take place between himself and his 
father. During this fanciful dialogue, in which he ap- 
peared truly heroic, and came off with flying colors, he 
imbibed several more glasses of brandy. He had taken a 
great liking to stimulants since indulging in absinthe. The 
moral coward always flies to drink to either drown his 
sorrows or bolster him up with fictitious courage. 

At three o’clock he prepared to return home.. He told 
himself that he would have a warm bath. Nothing like a 
bath to straighten a man when he feels overwrought. His 


110 ST, LEONARD’S EINE HAND. 

father would be home at five. He knew that he could de- 
pend upon that, for Jabez Alston was the soul of punctu- 
ality. He considered it quite as necessary to take his 
meals regularly, as to honor his notes at maturity. 

“I shall tackle him at once,” Edgar decided. “What is 
the use of deferring the battle?” 

He called for his ulster, and saw Detective Hawkley 
standing in the door-way. 

“Excuse me for interrupting you, Mr. Alston,” Hawk- 
ley said. 

“Well, sir?” 

There was fire in the young man’s eyes. 

“I wish that you would meet me on a more friendly 
footing. You may value my services some day — perhaps 
much sooner than you think.” 

“You are a fool !” was the polite retort. “For Heaven’s 
sake let me alone. ” 

“I rather fancy he is the greater fool of the two, ” Mr. 
Hawkley thought to himself ; then said, aloud : 

“I have been waiting outside for you since half-past 
one, Mr. Alston.” 

‘ ‘ Indeed ! It is like your infernal impudence ! ’ ’ 

“I only wished to ask you the name of the gentleman 
who was in here with you some time since, ” continued the 
detective, calmly. 

‘ ‘Oh, there is no doubt that he is your escaped convict, 
my sapient friend!” sneered Alston. “Why didn’t you 
lock him up on sight? See here, how much will you take 
to let me alone? I don’t wish to assault you, but by 
Heaven, I shall do so if you continue to dog my steps!” 

The detective laughed. 


ST. LEONARD’S FINE HAND. 


Ill 


“ITl take a cigar if you don’t object, sir. No offense! I 
mean well by you.” 

He took a bit of a pasteboard from bis card-case, add- 
ing; 

“That is my private address, and you’ll send for me 
within a month. Mark my words!” 

Alston took the card mechanically, and read: 

Nathaniel Hawkley, 

0 0 0 0 

No. — East Thirty-fourth St., New York City. . 

“I will take care of your address, Hawkley,” Alston 
said, “but it won’t be long before you are removed to an 
asylum for the insane ! You are the crankiest crank I ever 
met!” 

His good humor had returned. 

“I am obliged for your good opinion, sir!” replied 
Ilawkley, with a smile. “Thank you for the cigar. I know 
a good weed when I see one. Your friend was Lord St. 
Leonards, I believe?” 

“Get out and mind your own business,” was Alston’s 
reply. 

Hawkley accompanied him to the door, and they parted 
with some light banter. 

“Lord St. Leonards!” muttered Nat, as he watched 
Alston into a cab. “I was quite under the impression that 
he had gone to Australia ! And what was he doing at the 
Russell nest in Park avenue? There is a deep game some- 
where.” 

Arrived at home, Edgar went to his own room, where 
he placed himself in the hands of his valet. He had no 

wish to see his sister at present, and his air was particu- 
larly defiant. 


112 


ST. LEONAIID’S FINE HAND. 

“I shall let the governor know that Hawley comes here 
secretly. He is a sneak. None hut a sneak would do it. 
No doubt he dreams of easy times again, on our money!” 

His conscience did not suffer a single twinge. He de- 
tested his old chum for interfering between himself and 
his goddess. He had no sympathy with his sister, now 
that he was upon such excellent ■ terms with Lord St. 
Leonards. 

“Bring me a nij) of brandy, Richard,” he said to his 
valet. “That cold bath has chilled me through and 
through. I am not at all myself lately. ” 

The valet smiled inwardly. 

“It is very possible, Richard, that I shall want you to 
go away with me on short notice,” he went on, after gulp- 
ing down a copious draught of the fiery spirit. 

“Yes, sir?” interrogatively. 

“I am going to be married, soon. Now not a word to 
any of the servants. It is rather sudden, but the family 
will know all about it within an hour. ’ ’ 

Richard made a grimace behind his master’s back. 

“With your father’s permission, I shall be glad to go 
with you, sir, ’ ’ he said. 

There was not much sincerity in his tones, because 
Richard Streckfuss appreciated a comfortable home. He 
performed the duties of valet to both father and son, and 
cared little for the erratic ways of his young master. 

“My father’s permission? Pshaw! I am heartily sick of 
playing second fiddle!” 

His cheeks were fiushed, and his eyes were sullen with 
rage. 

“Is any one about the house?” he demanded. “I mean 


ST. LEONAED’S FI^E HAND. 113 

any visitors? The place is never free from some canting 
hypocrite. ’ ’ • 

“Only Mr. Hawley, sir! He is in the west drawing- 
room.” 

‘ ‘ Hawley 1 ” he yelled. ‘ ‘ The miserable cur ! ’ ’ 

His brain was on fire, and he had reached the door with 
a bound. 

“An infamous woman!” he hissed. “My Isabel is an in- 
famous woman, is she? Curse him!” 

A dozen fiying leaps landed him in the west drawing- 
room like a human tornado, and Edward Hawley sprang 
to his feet, while Minnie uttered a cry of astonishment and 
fear. 

“So I have caught you, despicable cur that you are!” 
Alston snarled. “You steal into my father’s house when 
he is away, and try to make misery with your slimy 
tongue, you pauper ! Let me tell you that you will never 
marry my sister, and I will put an end to your sneaking 
visits here!” 

“Edgar Alston!” 

Hawley’s tones were thunderous, and his blue eyes 
blazed. 

“Begone, sir! Out of my father’s house before I have 
you kicked into the street by the servants!” 

“But for your sister’s presence I would make you eat 
your words, ” Hawley retorted, suppressing his righteous 
passion. “Pshaw ! you are drunk ! Miss Alston, I will not 
prolong this wretched scene. You can answer for me, and 
the honesty of my motives. I’ 

He pressed her hand affectionately, and saw with rising 


ST. LEONAliD’S FINE HAND. 


Ill 

passion liow piteously her lips trembled. “Good-by. He 
will beg my pardon some day!” 

He turned to leave the room, but was met by* a savage 
blow, that left a livid mark on his face. 

“Coward!” hissed Alston. “That is for the words you 
hurled at me when you called my future wife an infamous 
woman ! Now retaliate if you have the manliness to do 
so!” 

In a moment Minnie was between the two enraged men, 
her face deathly white, her whole form quivering. 

“You are drunk!” Hawley said, in contemptuous tones, 
“and I repeat that some day you will beg my pardon. You 
know that I am no coward. In your present state it would 
be an easy matter to thrash you, but I cannot forget that 
you are the misguided brother of the woman I love — that 
you were once my friend!” 

So saying, Hawley pressed a kiss on Minnie’s cheek, and 
stepped swiftly out of the room, followed by the taunts of 
Edgar Alston. 

While this unhappy scene was being enacted, Mr. Jabez 
Alston was walking home. This was a certain sign that 
his mind was greatly disturbed. If anything agitated or 
perplexed him seriously, he invariably walked to and from 
the office, no matter how inclement the weather, although 
his carriage was always within call. 

As ^ he was crossing Madison square Edward Hawley 
almost collided with him without noticing who it was. 

“Pardon!’’ he murmured, and would have passed on 
had not the financier recognized him. 

“Edward Hawley! My dear fellow, I have not seen you 
for weeks! Are you forgetting your old friends?” Mr. Ja- 


ST. LEONARD’S FINE HAND. 


115 


bez Alston said. This was only one of bis forms of diplo- 
macy. He bad little use for Edward Hawley now. It is 
doubtful if be would bave seen bim at all bad be not re- 
membered tbat be was Edgar’s closest friend. In tbis 
capacity be might be useful still. 

“You bave not been to see us for weeks, my boy.” 

Hawley pressed bis lips bard together for a moment, 
then replied, calmly: 

“I bave been to your house to-day — not fifteen minutes 
since, sir. You will boar of it!” 

“No doubt — no doubt. Edgar is never tired of singing 
your praises. You bave been with bim to-day?” He 
glanced sharply at Hawley, and saw that there was some- 
thing on bis mind. “Do you object to walking a little way 
with me — that is, if you are not in a burry?” Then seeing 
that the young man hesitated, he added: “I believe tbat it 
is in your power to render me a great service — if you 
will.” 

Hawley took the arm tbat was held toward bim, say- 
ing: 

“I must be candid with you, Mr. Alston;, I owe it to you 
as much as I do to myself. I partly divine tbat you bave 
discovered something of Edgar’s latest infatuation, and 
imagine tbat I am capable of exercising some control over 
his actions — tbat be will listen to my advice.” 

“That is so,” assented Jabez Alston. 

“I am sorry, then, tbat I cannot help you in the way 
you wish.” 

“You encourage bim?” was the hot retort. 

“Wait, and I will explain. Yesterday your daughter 
sent for me to discuss tbis very question. At her desire I 


116 


ST. LEONARD’S FINE HAND.' 


investigated the character of Isabel Russell as far as I 
could in so short a time, and she is nothing less than an 
adventuress — a harlot ! A creature with the beauty of a 
goddess — a walking Venus!” 

Jabez Alston groaned. 

“Go on,” he said. 

“I visited Edgar at his club, at the request of Minnie, 
your daughter ; I remonstrated with him only to be the 
recipient of a torrent of abuse. I wrote to Miss Alston at 
once, and told her of my non-success, adding that I would 
call upon her again to-day. I did so, and met Edgar in a 
state of drunken fury. Forgetful of his sister’s presence, 
he used the vilest epithets toward me and even struck 
me.” 

Hawley turned his bruised cheek toward the financier, 
and the face of Jabez Alston hardened in a manner that 
was not good to see. 

“The ingrate!” he muttered. “I could curse him ! I will 
end this folly once and for all. This woman can be bought 
off, you think?” 

Hawley shrugged his shoulders. 

“If my informant is correct, she is capable of driving a 
hard bargain,” he said. “It may be that she has conceived 
a passion for Edgar, but I doubt it. ” 

“I am glad that you have been honest with me, my 
boy, ” the financier said, kindly. “I recognized your hand- 
writing, and wondered why you should address my 
daughter; but I never doubted your honor. You know 
my desires. Lord St. Leonards has already asked her hand 
in marriage, and has my consent to woo and wed my dear 
child.” 


^ ST. LEONARD’S FINE HAND. 117 

Hawley turned aside to liide the wave of color that 
rushed into his face. 

“I know that it must he some sort of a disappointment 
to you,” went on Jahez Alston. “I am not so dull that I 
have been blind to the fact that you young people have 
had many thoughts in common, hut the ways of inexorable 
Fate are not always those we desire. ” 

“Don’t — don’t!” interrupted Hawley. “I am a little 
more human than you fancy I am ! I have not your flinty 
nature, sir!” 

The financier started. 

“I repeat it, sir. You must be without a heart yourself 
to talk in the way you do. I am not an eligible parti. I 
should perhaps not be eligible in your sight, even if my 
father had not been unfortunate ; but I have told my love 
to Minnie, and with Heaven’s help I will yet win a place 
in life worthy of her acceptance!” 

Not a muscle of the financier’s face gave evidence of the 
torrent of wrath, surprise, and disappointment raging 
within. 

“Both Edgar and Minnie shall go to Europe at once!” 
flashed through his mind. “While I am adding to my 
wealth, I am allowing the 'dream of a life to verge upon 
being shipwrecked!” 

He looked kindly into Hawley’s flushed face. 

“You have acted thoughtlessly,” he said, “and knowing 
you as I do, I cannot, be harsh or cruel. What you propose 
can never ba It must now be good-by!” 

He held out his hand, but Edward Hawley did not see it. 

“I shall never counsel Miss Alston to oppose the wishes 
of her father,” he replied, bitterly, “even though he has a 


118 


ST. LEONAED S FINE HAND. 


heart of stone ; hut I have hope. I have confidence that 
she will yet he my wife. I sympathize with you now that 
your ambitions threaten to fall about you like a house of 
cards, Mr. Alston, but you will have no one to blame but 
yourself!” 

He turned and hurried away, and Jabez Alston stified 
an oath upon his lips. 

In the face of extreme danger he was as cool as an ice- 
berg. His calm smile had inspired confidence in the hearts 
of his dupes when upon the verge of ruin, and now that he 
knew the worst, his expression became doubly serene. 

“He says that I am heartless,” he mused. “Perhaps I 
am. I have long discarded the passions which are supposed 
to be inherent in all that is human. Now let me analyze 
myself — let me suppose that Edgar is stubborn enough to 
cling to this — er — harlot — what shall I do? Curse him, and 
turn him penniless into the streets ! I have no regard for 
anything which bars my way. But he will see with what 
he has to" deal,” his thin lips resolved themselves into a 
straight line, “and, as usual, will bow to my superior will. 

As for my daughter Pshaw, it is not worth arguing. 

She does as I command her to do!” 

He passed up the noble flight of steps into his own splen- 
did entrance hall, a smile upon his lips. He spoke pleas- 
antly to one of the servants, and inquired for his daughter. 

Miss Alston was in her boudoir, and Mr. Edgar was in 
the library. He decided to see his daughter first and went 
to her at once. 

He kissed her brow calmly, saying : 

“You have been crying, my dear. There! do not trouble 
to explain. I met young Hawley, and he told me all ! As 


ST. LEONARD’S FINE HAND. 


119 


usual, Edgar has been making a fool of himself. I will 
see him now !” 

. “You will not he harsh, papa!” she pleaded. “We do 
not know how much he has been tempted!” 

He vsmiled reassuringly. 

“Am I ever harsh with him — or with you?” he de- 
manded. “You would defend him to the last! I will adopt 
measures that will free him of this woman, and bring him 
to what senses he still possesses.” 

There was a bitter sneer in his tones. 

“He is in the library, probably waiting for me. St. 
Leonards warned me of this, so that I am not unprepared. 
I am led to believe that he is pot-valiant ! A man is never 
so weak as then. Do not interrupt us, my dear. Come 
down in half an hour and I trust that all will be well. ” 

He went down to the library where his son was avraiting 
him in a half-defiant mood, and carefully closed the door 
behind him. 

“Be seated, my boy,” he said, serenely. “I have heard 
sufficient from Lord St. Leonards to be prepared for some- 
thing which is painful to my feelings, as a careful fa- 
ther.” 

He pretended not to notice his son’s flushed face and 
almost savage expression. 

“Now don’t interrupt me, please, as I wish to plunge 
right into this business. You fancy that you are in love 
with some lady ” 

“It is no fancy !” blurted out Edgar. “I love her madly ! 
Death would be preferable to losing her.” 

“Well?” 

“You see, I have quite made up my mind, sir. Nothing 


120 ST. LEONAED’^ FINE HAND. 

can alter it. I am a man and ought to know my own mind. 
No arguments on earth will move me one iota. ” 

“I do not think that I have opposed you yet, Edgar,” 
was the quiet reply. “St. Leonards speaks well of the 
lady, though I have little confidence in the rhapsodies of 
young men where a pretty woman is concerned. As for 
actresses — as a rule they are as worthless as they are 
painted! What do you want of me?” 

“I want your consent and as much money as you can 
afford to give to me. I can’t start housekeeping on noth- 
ing.” 

Jabez Alston laughed mirthlessly. 

“What is her figure?” he remarked, carelessly, but 
with a sudden contraction of the eyelids. 

“Her figure!” repeated Edgar, fiushing hotly. 

“What is the amount of the settlement she demands — 
the marriage settlement?” 

“Fifty thousand!” blurted out the young man. “A flea- 
bite to you!” 

Jabez Alston was silent for a few minutes, then he said : 

“I must take time to consider this.” 

“I cannot wait, ” was the dogged rejoinder. “It must be 
yes or no.” 

“And if I say no?” 

“Then I must shift for myself. I have been your play- 
thing long enough. The richest man in New York keeps 
his son on a beggarly allowance— treats him as though he 
were a child — and ” 

“The interview is ended,” his father interrupted, coldly. 
“I will not find you one penny for this woman who values 
you personally at nothing. I do not wish you to leave my 


ST. LEONARD’S FINE HAND. 


121 


house until you have, had time to consider— -until you have 
proved that this Isabel Russell is a scheming adventuress. 

• I ” 

“Hold!” thundered Edgar. “You shall not smirch her 
name! I may forget* that you are my father. I am not so 
friendless as you believe!” 

The elder man rose, and coldly pointed to the door. 

“Go!” he said. “I have no wish to prolong this melo- 
. dramatic scene ! Go to your harlotj and discover, when it 
is too late, that she is not what your fancy has painted 
her. I have no wish to see you again until you confess 
that I have not erred in my judgment. When you have 
been cast off — scorched by the fire of her artifice — a scorned 
and pitiable thing, then you may return and I will forgive 
you.” 

“That will be never!” snarled Edgar, as he dashed out 
of the room with the noise of a whirlwind. 

He ordered the valet to pack up his belongings forth- 
with, saying: 

“I am going away to-night. I will let you know where 
to send them.” 

Then he sought his sister and begged of her to forgive 
him. 

“I have been a brute,” he groaned, “but it is not all 
my fault. You shall hear of me soon. I have plenty of 
good friends.” 

An hour later he left the house and shook his fist venge- 
fully at the window of the room where he knew that his 
cold-hearted father was calmly enjoying his dinner. 

“I will go to the Waldorf, ” he thought, “and send for 
my baggage. To-morrow I shall see St. Leonards and have 


122 


ST. LEONARD’S FINE HAND. 


that money matter fixed up. Within a week I hope to clasp 
Isabel to my heart as my wife.” 

Meanwhile the serenity of the flinty hearted financier 
was undisturbed. 

“I will see this painted wanton,* he thought. “St. 
Leonards shall take me to her. If fifty thousand will buy 
her, and send her to the antipodes it shall be done. Curse 
the women and their wiles ! I cannot understand how 
men can be made fools of ! Unless I am far out of my 
reckoning, we shall be in Europe within a month ! I will 
send a telegram to St. Leonards to-night!” 






..i.t 


‘.fc 


“THINK OF ISABEL !“ 


123 


CHAPTER XI. 

“THINS: OF Isabel!” 

St. Leonards kept his appointment at the Athenian Club 
to the moment, and found Alston waiting for him with 
pale, anxious face, and blood-shot eyes. 

“You are not looking well,” his lordship observed, con- 
siderately. “You will have to take more care of yourself, 
Alston, hah Jove!” 

“I have been ^'oing the pac6 too fast, but 1 shall settle 
down soon now,” Edgar replied. “Truth is, old hoy, 1 am 
thoroughly miserable. I behaved like a brute last night to 
my sister, but it was mainly on your account.” 

“Indeed!” exclaimed St. Leonards, trying to look in- 
terested. 

“I found Hawley — the fellow who is sweet on Minnie — 
at home when I got there. Didn’t expect to he disturbed, 
you know, and there was a regular row ! Hawley is’ a 
scene-painter at the Frivolity. Used to he a friend of mine 
— an old college chum — hut has come down in the world 
with a run. Stimson, the manager of the Frivolity, sent 
him with some cock-and-bull story about Miss Russell, to 
which I refused to listen. ’ ’ 

St. Leonards’ face grew dark. 

“Miss Russell is a friend of mine, and as such I will pro- 
tect her until she is your wife, ” he said. 

“I can do all that sort of thing,” Edgar interrupted. 
“Much obliged to you, though, old fellow.” 

‘/Well, what luck with papa?” his lordship demanded. 


124 


'THINK OF ISABEL I” 


He pretended the utmost anxiety, though he had not 
left Mr. Jahez Alston more than half an hour, from whom 
he had heard the story in detail. 

“I am out in the cold,” Edgar replied. 

“Never! hah Jove!” 

“Yes. The governor put on his tantalizing sneer, and 
after a wordy war, politely requested me to go until I came 
to my senses!” 

“And he would do nothing?” 

“Absolutely nothing. I defied him, relying upon your 
assistance, and he can go to the devil if he chooses,” 
growled Alston. “He has a notion that I shall go whining 
back in a few days like a whipped cur. By Heaven, he is 
mistaken!” 

“What did he say of Miss Russell?” asked St. Leonards. 

“What didn’t he say ! By Heaven, sir, he called her a 
harlot ! a wanton ! a scheming adventuress, and a painted 
Jezebel! I can never forgive him — never! He shall beg 
Isabel’s pardon on his knees!” 

“He shall!” chimed in the peer, frowning. “I take this 
almost as a personal matter. But, then, you are his only 
son, and it is hard to have his cherished schemes thwarted. 
We must be charitable! Put yourself in his place. Depend 
upon it that it is pure affection that prompts him to act in 
this way.” 

Edgar looked at him sharply. He thought that he de- 
tected a little sarcasm in his lordship’s tones, but the pale 
gray eyes were beaming benignly. 

“I will make it the business of my life,” he proceeded, 
“to bring you together — to heal up this breach. Family 
dissensions are the worst of troubles.” 


“THINK OF ISABEL !” 


125 


“We will discuss this when my position is strength- 
ened,” interrupted Alston; “when Isabel is my wife, and 
I can silow him that I am independent. As for his affec- 
tion, he has none, except for himself. Now, then, the next 
important step is to raise the money, as you suggested 
yesterday. I am practically in your hands, and I will he 
candid with you. Though the son of the reputed keenest 
financier in New York — a human steel trap I have heard 
him called — I am a baby in business matters. ’ ’ 

“Yes — yes!” assented St. Leonards, indulgently. 

“I have only had a paltry allowance, every penny of 
which I have spent, and, in addition, am up to my ears in 
debt.” 

“I quite understand that, dear hoy. How much do you 
owe?” 

“Oh, damn it! I haven’t the faintest idea. Maybe 
twenty thousand ; and there’s that fiat— the furniture, you 
know— and— and one or two other items.” 

The British peer looked horrified. 

“Surely — surely,” he said, “Miss Russell did not permit 
you to — er — incur the expense of — of ” 

“I insisted upon it! Man ! what do you take me for?” 

“Then, hah Jove! it is a love match, and no mistake! I 
never knew Miss Russell to permit such a thing before!” 

He looked so delighted that Alston flushed with grati- 
fication. It appeared that he had achieved that which 
others had sighed for in vain ! 

“Twenty thousand! Aw! a trifle for a fellow in your 
position. I owed three times as much when I was twenty ! 
Beastly tradespeople, I suppose? Tailors, jewelers, and 
that class? No matter— owe it, dear boy— owe it! I sup- 


126 


“THINK OF ISABEL!” 


pose you have not — er — had the need to borrow much 
money?” 

“No! I had my allowance quarterly. Two thousand five 
hundred, and if I ever ran short, private friends accom- 
modated me,” Alston said, a little gloomily. “But, there! 
my credit is good enough!” 

St. Leonards shrugged his shoulders, and a sneer 
played round his mouth. 

“Don’t be alarmed, dear boy,” he said, soothingly. 
“You’ll get used to this sort of thing in the course of 
time, and it will be better for me to break the news to you 
than — er — a stranger.” 

“News! what news?” gasped Alston. 

St. Leonards drew a copy of the New York World from 
his pocket and pointed to a paragraph which he had care- 
fully marked. 

It was headed : 

“THE FINANCIER AND THE ACTRESS. 

“the son of a new YORK MILLIONAIRE WANTS TO MARRY A 
CHARMING DEMOISELLE WHO TRIPS IT BEFORE THE FOOT- 
LIGHTS, BUT PAPA OBJECTS.” 

The horrible words danced before Edgar Alston’s eyes 
like fiery demons. Then he perused the report, which read 
as follows : 

“Romance with a vengeance! A millionaire’s son pre- 
fers poverty with the girl he loves, to affluence without 
her. All true lovers will sympathize with him, and the 
stern father who has driven him from the paternal man- 
sion will be likened to the horrible ogre in the fairy 
stories. But this is no fairy story, and bids to be one of 
the sensations of the day. We can only hint at present 
that the faithful lover has sought refuge at an uptown 
hotel, determined to wed the woman of his choice, but 
will endeavor to furnish our readers with full particulars 
in the next issue.” 


“THINK OF ISABEL 


127 


Alston sank into a seat, trembling and as pale as death. 

“My Heaven!” he gasped. “What does this mean? 
How has it leaked out?” 

“How do these things leak out?” said St. Leonards. 
“One never knows. These American reporters are the 
very duse 1 They respect no one, high or low. When I 
came here, my private life was raked up until I began to 
believe that I was the greatest scoundrel on earth. Then 
I allowed the devils to interview me, parted with a few 
dollars, and I became a saint. In England they would get 
two years at hard labor!” 

Alston’s head was buried in his hands. 

“Do you think they will find me?” he groaned. “By 
Heaven! I’ll shoot the first man who approaches me!” 

“Nonsense — nonsense!” smiled the man who had been 
instrumental in causing the publication of the item. “Be 
a man — for Isabel’s sake. We must come to business! I 
have brought a couple of blank notes. You had better fill 
them in for what you want — say eighty thousand dollars — 
two f ortys — one at three and one at four months. ’ ’ 

“Eighty thousand!” murmured Alton. 

“Yes, dear boy. I am thinking of you solely. Fifty for 
your wife, and a little to begin life with besides. When 
you are safely married, I will try and reconcile your 
father to the inevitable. I shall have a double purpose in 
doing this, because if I fail I shall have to pay these 
notes, being the indorser. ’ ’ 

“You are too good!” 

“I will also endeavor to keep any further scandal out of 
the papers. ” 

He handed the notes to the half-dazed Alston, saying ; 


128 


“THINK OF ISABEL!” 


“Fill them in as I have directed and name the bank at 
which they are to he payable. ’ ’ 

Edgar obeyed, and after signing them, St. Leonards 
placed them carefully in his pocket-book. 

“I will cable to my man of business in London,” he 
said, “and do not doubt that I shall have the monej’’ for 
you to-morrow.” 

“And until then?” asked the dupe. 

’’Keep yourself to yourself. Do not drink too much, 
dear boy ! For Isabel’s sake. Remember that she is like a 
sister to me. In all this I am thinking of her as much as 
of you. You will see her this evening, of course! I should 
not venture to Park avenue until evening, for Isabel’s 
sake. You know not who may be dogging your steps. I 
understand that the unscrupulous publishers of news- 
papers in New York employ detectives for the purpose of 
gathering news for their nefarious traffic. ” 

Edgar Alston remembered Nathaniel Hawkley, and an 
oath escaped him. 

“You are right,” he said. “A fellow named Hawkley 
has been on my track for days!” 

“Hawkley!” faltered St. Leonards. “Aw — I don’t know 
him,” he added, with a sickly smile. 

‘ ‘He was here yesterday, and asked me if you were Lord 
St. Leonards.” 

“Here!” His lordship looked white. “Bah Jove! I shall 
be connected with this affair next. In future we will meet 
at the Waldorf. Well, ta-ta! If anything transpires favor- 
ably, I will look you up to-night between nine and ten in 
Park avenue, if I may be permitted.” 

They shook hands, and St. Leonards went away and was 


'THINK OF ISABEL !’* 


129 


driven to Isabel’s residence in a cab. Having ascertained 
that he was not being followed, his lordship ran up stairs. 
He hoped to escape the watchful eye of the janitor. The 
door of Isabel Russell’s apartments was promptly opened 
to him, and he was ushered in by Lucy. 

The siren and Roseberry were evidently expecting him, 
and when the key had been turned in the door, he glee- 
fully exhibited the notes which had been handed to him 
by Edgar Alston to get discounted. 

. “The first installment,” he said, “and the poor fool 
will be here to-night. You understand?” 

He looked meaningly at Isabel. She nodded. 

“There must be no mistake, and we break camp to-mor- 
row.” 

“So soon!” 

“Hawkley!” he whispered. 

Gilbert Roseberry started up with a savage oath. 

“You are safe!” the false St. Leonards hastened to say. 
“It is I who am in most danger now. Hawkley suspects 
something. I shall be here at ten to-night, and in the 
meanwhile another nest will be provided. I will see to 
that. The old man will visit you in secret to offer you 
money to give up his son. Play your cards discreetly — 

and ” 

Isabel interrupted him with a peal of rippling laughter. 

“I understand. Old men are greater fools than young 
ones. ” 

“This is no ordinary man.” 

“So much the better. Variety is charming!” 

Roseberry frowned darkly, and muttered: 

“I shall be glad when all this is ended.” 


130 


“THINK OF ISABEL!’ 


“And so shall I, old friend, with a fortune and rolling 
on the bounding seas!” 

Then turning to Isabel, he said : 

“To-night at ten. Do your part, and I will do mine. 
To-morrow we quit here, and I will sell this stuff as it 
stands to the highest bidder. It ought to fetch fifteen 
hundred. ” 

He went away quietly, Lucy having been sent to hold 
the janitor in conversation in the regions below. Ten 
minutes later there was another ring at the bell, and Lucy 
appeared with a card bearing the name of “ John'Stimson. ” 

“So he has found me!” muttered Isabel, a wild, hunted 
look coming into her eyes. “Gilbert, leave me alone with 
this man. It is Stimson, from the Frivolity.” 

Roseberry obeyed, and John Stimson was admitted into 
the lady’s bower, an ugly smile on his face. 

“What do you want here?” she demanded. “Cannot I 
rest in peace anywhere?” 

“Not unless you employ yourself honestly,” he retorted. 
“I am up to every move you make. You shall not ruin the 
young fool who is scorching himself in the fire of your 
devilish wiles. ’ ’ 

“What business is it of yours?” 

“I thought that I loved you once, Isabel Russell, and 
believed myself ” 

“Hush!” she whispered, in agony. 

“Oh, there is no one to hear! I half credited the story 
that you had married again, but I have had you watched 
constantly. Now, listen ! I have no time to waste here. 
You must quit New York. You must set young Alston 
free. He’ll soon get over it. ” 


“THINK OF ISABEL 


131 


“And if I refuse?” 

“I’ll have you arrested, you she-devil. You know what 
for!” 

“Hush! A woman cannot cope with a man. I will go !” 

He looked at her fiercely. 

'' “None of your tricks!” 

“I tell you that I will go!” she hissed. “I will go within 
forty-eight hours. You shall never hear of me again. I 
only came to you when I was starving. ” 

“You thought that the old power would bring me to 
your feet again,” he sneered. “I obtained an engagement 
for you, and hoped that you were satisfied. Let this poor 
dupe go, or I will hunt you down. You know that I am 
not to be fooled with again. I hate you !” 

She looked at him with a hitter smile. 

' “Good-day !” he added. “I shall be here in two day’s 
time. In the meantime I shall keep my eyes open !” 

He went out after casting upon her a malevolent glance, 
and when she heard his footsteps dying away on the 
stairs, she paced the room like a tragedy queen. 

“How am I to escape him?” she murmured. “My 
Heaven, is he to ruin all? No! If Gilbert did but know,' 
he would kill me!” 

The remainder of the day was one of torture to her. A 
hundred plans were made and discarded, but at last came 
a settled determination in her eyes, and they gleamed 
with the fires of deadly hate. 

How would she be able to play her part? How could she 
bear the caresses of Edgar Alston? 

At seven o’clock he was there, breathing all the mad- 
ness in her ears that she had heard so often before. He 


132 “THINK OF ISABEL!” 

had left Lome — friends — all for her sake ! In a few honrs 
he would cast riches into her lap. He kissed her until he 
was intoxicated — he clung to her under the spell of her 
devilish witchery — the magic of her touch — the glances of 
her eyes. 

He drank to her beauty, the nectar prepared by her lily- 
white fingers, and heard with remorse of her trials for his 
sake. 

“We must go away soon, Edgar, ” she told him, half 
tearfully. “I believe that we are being watched — that 
your father has set a spy upon me. Oh, the degradation 
of it!” 

“The accursed newspaper report,” he thought, venge- 
fully. 

“And I dread — you cannot think how much — of dragging 
your dear name through the mire of scandal. You had 
better let me go — and — and forget me!” 

“Isabel!” 

The pathos in his tones startled her. 

“I would die a hundred deaths in preference! Father, 
home, and friends are nothing now!” 

He was bewildered by the force of his feelings — by his 
anxiety to rescue this woman from the trouble with which 
he believed that he had surrounded her — and his senses 
reeled with the opium-flavored wine that he had been 
drinking. 

Oh, how eagerly he looked now for the coming of St. 
Leonards. 

“I may have the money to-night,” he told her many 
times. “A trusted friend is busy in my behalf— a friend 
of yours also— Lord St. Leonards!” 


“THINK OF ISABEL !” 


133 


At ten his lordship appeared as softly as a shadow, and 
when he saw Alston’s condition he smiled grimly. 

“I wish to see you alone a moment, Alston,” he said, 
quietly. 

“No — no ! We have no secrets here, old fellow. I have 
told Isabel all.” 

“Well, come to the table.” 

Alston staggered across the room, looking eagerly into 
St. Leonards’ face. 

“The money!” he gasped. 

“That is what I wish to talk about. Be seated, dear 
boy.” 

“The money!” said Edgar, hoarsely. 

“My man of business is away ! His clerk has sent a cable 
to that effect. He will not be home for a week. ’ ’ 

“Heavens!” 

“Don’t take on so! I went at once to a money lender — 
a broker — and he is willing to advance the money. You 
see how I have been working for you!” 

“You are my savior* !” 

“One moment. I have filled in two other notes — same 
date and same amount as the others — but they must bear 
the signature of your father’s firm!” 

“Forgery,” murmured Edgar. 

“Nonsense! Money must be raised. Think of Isabel! 
See the risk I run. It is not forgery in its literal meaning, 
because I am a party to it ; and remember that I am a 
peer of the British realm ! Think of poor Isabel. In 
twenty-four hours this place will swarm with your credi- 
tors unless you satisfy them in some way. You signed 
checks and notes a year ago while your father was ill with 


134 


'THINK OF ISABEL!” 


rheumatism. You can do so still. For the woman I pro- 
fessed to love I ” 

“Give me a pen!” interrupted Alston, fiercely. “I care 
for nothing!” 

He hastily scrawled “Jabez Alston & Co.,” at the foot 
of the notes, and saw them quietly pocketed by St. Leon- 
ards. 

“Now you must not be impatient, ’ ’ he said. “It may take 
me a day or two to negotiate these things, but I will do it!” 

A significant glance passed between him and the siren, 
and he whispered : 

“We quit at nine o’clock to-morrow morning. Impera- 
tive! I have all prepared.” 

He went away, and Alston sank onto a divan by the 
side of Isabel. He caressed her in a maudlin fashion, and 
with gentle fingers she pressed more wine upon him. 

His last vision of her was that of a beautiful, smiling 
devil! Then he sank into a deep slumber and dreamed 
blissful dreams. 

It was long past midnight when he came to his senses, 
and the enchantress was lying half asleep in a cushioned 
chair. 

“Edgar,” she whispered, “it is time that you left me. 
People will talk.” 

“One last kiss ! Heavens ! how my brain reels ! The ex- 
citement is too much for me. It is marvelous how you 
bear up through it all. To-morrow, sweetest another time 
of such bliss as this!” 

He fondled her until she was tired, and as she gently 
pushed him away, he saw a spot of blood on her snowy 
white arm. 


“THINK OF ISABEL!” 


135 


It seemed to dance and glow like lurid fire. He never 
forgot it. 

Even in the cab that whirled him back to the Waldorf, 
it danced before his eyes — all through his sleepless night 
— and flashed over the broad sheets of the morning paper, 
until it rested upon a thrilling account of the murder of 
John Stimson, the manager of the Frivolity! 


136 


“THE NOTES VVEEE MADE BY ME !” 


BOOK THREE. 


HER LAST VICTIM. 


CHAPTER XII. 

“the notes were made by me!” 

Mr. Jabez Alston, the financier, was not often outwardly 
disturbed, but the more he reflected upon the peril of his 
son, the more grave his face became. He could bear the 
loss of a million without emotion. That could be recov- 
ered ; but the loss of his only son was an unforeseen 
calamity — a loss which might be irreparable unless prompt 
action were taken. 

“Headstrong fool!” he muttered. “He never was pos- 
sessed of an ounce of ballast ! Curse this Queenie, or what- 
ever else she may be called ! Some painted hussy who has 
used her wiles to good advantage. Not a word from him ! 
Things cannot go on in this way. I will see her this very 
day— give her money to release him, and I should imagine 
that the lesson will give him a life cure!” 

He took a card from his vest pocket containing the ad- 
dress of Isabel Russell. This had been provided by Lord 
St. Leonards, whose anxiety on behalf of the misguided 
Edgar was almost touching. 

“Eight o’clock this evening,” hemuttered, with afrown. 


“THE NOTES WERE MADE BY ME !” 


137 


“Most inconvenient hour, but personal considerations are 
out of the question now !’’ 

He was very taciturn at the breakfast-table, and Minnie 
would have been wretched, indeed, but for a brave letter 
from her lover which she had received the previous day. 

“I will save Edgar from this bad woman,” Edward Haw- 
ley wrote. “I cannot forget that he has been my friend, 
and that he is your brother. Be brave, my darling, and 
all will come right at last!” 

She had read the sweet words so many times that she 
knew them by heart, and was repeating the fond assur- 
ances to herself, .when her father spoke, interrogatively : 

“I have not seen Lord St. Leonards for two days?” 

“Have you not, papa?” Minnie replied, naively. 

“Has he been here?” he demanded. 

“He came yesterday, but I did not see him.” 

Her eyes sparkled, and a w^arm flush mounted to her 
cheeks. 

“You mean that you would not see him!” he cried, 
angrily. “You think that I am to be openly defled!” 

“I do not like Lord St. Leonards, papa,” was the simple 
reply. “As a lover he is simply detestable!” 

Jabez Alston left the table abruptly, harsh words half 
stifled on his lips, rage and determination in his heart. 

He sprang into the waiting coupe and was driven to his 
office. For the flrst time in twenty years he forgot to say 
good-morning to his confidential clerk, and passed into his 
private room, a thunder-cloud upon his brow. 

He laid aside hat, ulster, and gloves, and was scarcely 
seated at his desk, when his confidential man appeared, 
strong anxiety expressed in his face, 


138 


“THE NOTES WERE MADE BY ME !” 


“What is it, Billings?’’ he demanded. 

“A serious matter, sir, I am afraid. A Jew money len- 
der has been waiting to see you for an hour or more. ’ ’ 

“I have nothing to do with those people,” interrupted 
the millionaire, impatiently. 

“But he holds two notes for a large amount which ap- 
pear to bear your signature.” 

Jabez Alston’s face turned deathly white. 

“I have not signed a note for ten years,” he gurgled. 

“Of course not, sir. I have looked at the writing, and it 
is not even a good imitation.” 

“Do you suspect any one, Billings?” his employer asked, 
huskily. “Speak out. I trust you in all things, even the 
honor of my name !” 

“It is Mr. Edgar’s handwriting, sir, ” Billings said, his 
pale face growing paler still. “I knew it in a moment. A 
trifle shaky, but there is no mistaking it.” 

“Good God! Just as I suspected!” The proud financier 
bent down his head to his desk and groaned. Then he 
looked up quickly, adding: “Show the fellow in. My son 
must be saved, at any cost ; but I will never forgive him 
for this. Forgery ! It is equal to murder ! The lever I now 
hold may bring him to his senses. Mr. Billings, I have not 
told you of my trouble — of my son’s mad folly ” 

“I have heard something of it, sir,” the clerk said, 
deprecatingly. “And if I can help you to save the house 
from scandal, you have but to command me.” 

“Show the Jew in,” Mr. Alston said. “There may be 
some conspiracy here. After I have probed him, Billings, 
we will discuss the matter.” 

The confidential clerk retired, and a minute later a son 


“THE NOTES WERE MADE BY ME !” 139 

of Israel entered the room with a bow and a smile. His 
foxy black eyes rested for a moment on the stern 
features of the financier, then he buried his hooked nos© 
in a dirty pocket-handkerchief, snuffling : 

“Good-morning, sir.” 

“Close the door and be seated,” Mr. Alston said, briefl3^. 

The Jew obeyed, his restless eyes furtivelj^ watching the 
financier’s inscrutable face. He took a position on the ex- 
treme edge of a chair, his features still wreathed in 
smiles. 

“My name is Solomon, ” he began, in oily tones. “Sorry 
to trouble you, sir, but it is a matter of trifling importance 
if the paper I hold is right.” 

“Go on.” 

“Well, Mr. Alston, I have discounted two notes for 
thirty thousand each, purporting to be made by you.” 

The financier nodded. 

“For whom were they discounted?” 

“A British nobleman whose indorsement they bear — 
Lord St. Leonards.” 

Mr. Alston started. 

“I don’t know why I became suspicious that all was not 
right, ” continued the Jew, “but I decided to show the 
notes to your bankers, and was advised to see you without 
delay. This frightened me, because I cannot afford to lose 
so much money. If they an’t straight goods. I’ll send the 
forger to Sing Sing for a spell, s’ help me, Moses’” 

He assumed a wicked scowl, and excitedly rose to his 
feet and paced the floor. 

“Let me see the notes,” Mr. Alston said, calmly. 

For a minute the Jew glared at him suspiciously ; then 


UO “THE NOTES WEKE MADE BY ME!” 

he took a greasy wallet from an inner pocket, from which 
he produced one of the fatal notes, being careful not to let 
it escape his hawk-like claws. 

“That is one of them, ’’ he snarled. “That is one of the 
notes by which I have been swindled. I’ll hunt the forger 
to his very death!” 

Astute as Mr. Jabez Alston was, it never occurred to 
him that the Jew was playing a part. It never occurred to 
him that he was the dupe of a deep-laid scheme. 

“lam bewildered, ” he thought. “What can St. Leon- 
ards have had to do with this?” He glanced at the money- 
lender, adding: “The fiend will go to any length!” 

“Mr. Solomon,” he said, icily, “I fail to see how you 
have been swindled. It appears to me that this is an or- 
dinary business transaction.” 

The Jew’s eyes glittered with a sudden fire of avarice 
and triumph. 

“You acknowledge the notes!” he gasped. “Your bank- 
ers feared they were forgeries, and I notified the police to 
await my instructions. I am sorry I did this.” 

Mr. Alston made a gesture of annoyance. 

“I will redeem them now, ” he said. “The notes were 
made by me!” 

He unlocked a drawer in his desk, and took therefrom 
a check-book. A placid smile overspread his face, and 
with a firm hand he wrote a check for sixty thousand dol- 
lars, the full amount of the two notes. 

One minute, and the check and notes had changed 
hands.* Mr. Solomon was bowed out, and when he was 
alone the financier uttered a deep groan. 

“My son a forger !” he muttered. “At last he has de- 


“THE NOTES WEEE MADE BY ME!*’ 141 

scended to this, and for the sake of that accursed woman ! 
Why should I not discard him? Oh, God! to think that 
my name — the honor of my house should he in his keep- 
ing!” 

He sat down, and for a little while gazed steadily at the 
window that overlooked the busy street below. 

Five — ten minutes elapsed; then there was a languid 
step in the outer office, and the well-known voice of St. 
Leonards' was asking for Alston. 

The millionaire stepped quickly to the door and opened 
it. 

“Good-morning, my lord, ” he said. “Come in — come 
in!” 

“Ah — how d’ye do, Alston?” St. Leonards replied. 
“Bah Jove, you are not well,” he added, in sudden alarm. 

“I am quite well, ” with a hollow laugh. “Only a trifle 
upset.” 

“Ah, yes — of course. I understand, ” his lordship said, ' 
sadly. “I have done my best for the boy, but I am afraid 
that he will marry her. I helped him to cash your notes — 
he told me that you had washed your hands of him, and 
that was his portion of your wealth. With the proceeds 
he is willing to go abroad and take Isabel Russell with 
him ; but if I judge her character aright she wull hardly 
be satisfied with a few thousands from the son of New 
York’s greatest millionaire!” 

> A sickly smile overspread the financier’s gray face, as 
he whispered : 

“It was kind of you to back those notes, St. Leonards.” 

“Yes, I'did it so that he would get their full commercial 
value. I took them to a fellow who is a few degrees better 


142 “THE NOTES WEKE MADE BY ME !” 

than the ordinary human shark. He knew me years a^o 
before I attained my majority, and my name put aside 
any doubts he may have had if the papers had been offered 
to him by Edgar alone. ” 

“And you never had any suspicion about those notes, 
St. Leonards?” 

“Suspicion?” 

His lordship laughed good-humoredly. 

“I don’t think the name of Jabez Alston is likely to be 
questioned for so paltry a sum!” he said. “Audi don’t 
think that I shall ever be called upon to pay dishonored 
notes bearing your signature. ” 

“St. Leonards,” the millionaire replied, hoarsely, “you 
must know little of business matters to dream for one mo- 
ment that I would attach my name to those wretched 
things.” 

His lordship leaned forward, a look of horror on his 
face. 

“Do you mean to tell me that they are ” 

He hesitated, and Jabez Alston added: 

“Forgeries! Yes, St. Leonards, my only son has de- 
scended to this! I say it with shame. This Jew, this Solo- 
mon, has been here — I have taken up the accursed paper. 
It is safely hidden in my safe. Now to save him from this 
hellish woman ! If he cannot satisfy her he will resort to 
his penmanship again. He is enthralled!” 

“Heavens! how horrible!” his lordship murmured. 
“My dear Alston, I am positive that she cares nothing for 
Edgar. She dislikes very young men— I know it. Like all 
of her class, she worships money and what money wull 
buy. She will fool him to the top of his bent, despising 


“THE NOTES WERE MADE BY ME !” 


143 


him all the while. Bad as she is, I do not think that she is 
capable of inducing him to commit a crime for her sake. 
Yes, he must be saved from her — and from — himself! If 
you saw her and pleaded with her ” 

“I will!” 

Jabez Alston brought his fist down with a thunderous 
bang on the table. 

“I will! and this very night!” 

“What time shall you leave the office?” asked St. Leon- 
ards, after a minute’s silence. 

“Four o’clock. I will telephone to the house for an early 
dinner. May I hope that you will join me, St. Leonards? 
After what has passed I must regard you in the light of 
one of my closest friends. ” 

“You do me honor, sir, ” his lordship replied. “As I 
aspire to become a member of your family, it is only nat- 
ural that the interests of that family are even dearer to 
me than my own. ” 

The two men clasped hands and there were tears in the 
eyes of the millionaire. 

“You British, ” he replied, huskily, “are supposed to 
prize honor before all else, but though my whole life has 
been devoted to dollars and dimes, I believe that a foul 
blot on my name would kill me. My lord, you speak of 
the possibility of becoming a member of my family, and I 
may suggest that you visit us more frequently. There is 
nothing between your suit but a childish infatuation which 
will wear away when my daughter begins to realize your 
true worth.” 

St. Leonards turned aside his head for a moment, then 
replied, sympathetically : 


144 


“THE NOTES WERE MADE BY ME!” 


“I have given my whole heart to Miss Alston, hut I am 
not a hold wooer. Loving her as I do, I would give way. to 
any one more favored who is worthy of so priceless a 
jewel. Until this morning I was not hopeful, and though 
it is against my nature to find pleasure in profiting hy the 
misfortunes of another, I cannot help ' hut rejoice that 
your daughter has heen saved from what might have heen 
a sad fate had I ultimately heen discarded for Mr. Edward 
Hawley.” 

Mr. Alston looked at him questioningly. 

“Ah, I see that you have not heard the sad news. You 
have heen too full of your own troubles to heed those of 
others. Edward Hawley has heen arrested this morning, 
charged with the murder of Stimson, the manager at the 
Frivolity.” 

“Great God! No!” 

“It is only too true. He and Stimson quarreled violently 
a few hours before the murder. Hawley has neglected his 
work of late, and caused dissatisfaction to the manage- 
ment. You must not forget that it was he who brought 
Edgar and Isabel Russell together, and though it is cow- 
ardly to speak ill of any man behind his hack, I be- 
lieve that he has all along heen playing a double game for 
the purpose of being in constant communication with your 
daughter. ’ ’ 

Jahez Alston was shocked hy the news ; hut when a 
man becomes poor, he argued, there is no knowing to 
what lower depths he may sink. 

“In one way I am relieved,” he said, “hut I cannot help 
feeling sorry that one who once held my respect and es- 
teem should have proved himself never to have heen 


“THE NOTES WERE MADE BY ME !” 


145 


worthy of either. Is there no reasonable donbt that he is 
innocent — that there is a mistake somewhere?” 

St. Leonards shrugged his shoulders. 

“The revolver that killed Stimson was found under 
some rubbish in his painting room,” he said. “Everything 
points to his guilt. I have just read of the affair in the 
morning papers.” 

“An accident,” the financier murmured. “I cannot be- 
lieve that it was otherwise unless, indeed, the boy has 
gone altogether to the bad. Pshaw ! This effectually ends 
all between us. ’ ’ 

“I will look in about four,” St. Leonards observed, “and 
you can take me home in your carriage.” 

“Very well. And to-night 1 will see this Isabel Russell. 
I have no doubt that money will tempt her to let my poor 
boy go — to open his eyes to his insane folly.” 

“You will be successful, though I am pretty sure, from 
all accounts, that the actress woman will drive a hard bar- 
gain. I will be on hand in good time. ” 

He left Jabez Alston, and stepped into a waiting cab, his 
order to the driver being : 

“To the Esmeralda Flats, Park avenue.” 

As the vehicle rattled away, he took up a copy of that 
day’s Herald from among other morning papers which he 
had purchased and left on the seat. His eyes wandered to 
the shipping news., and a strange smile flickered over his 
face when he saw the following: 

“Sydney, Australia — arrived, steamship Concordia.” 

A list of the first saloon passengers was appended, the 
foremost of whom was Lord St. Leonards and party. 


146 “THE NOTES WEBE MADE BY ME!” 

Tho bogus nobleman smiled, but there were anxious 
lines about his mouth. 

“Another twenty-four hours should see the business in 
New York at an end, ” he muttered. “If I were suspected 
what would be easier than a cable to Australia? I will 
see Isabel at once. She can squeeze twenty thousand out 
of Alston, and then we sha’n’t be so badly off after all. I 
am pretty safe, I think, for Eoseberry dare not stir with 
the fear of the State prison of Frankfort before him. ” 

A savage smile distorted his face, and he continued : 

“Oh! how I love her, and he alone stands between 
us ! Another week and w^e will be on the high seas, and as 
for him, he dies!” 

The cab stopped at Isabel’s residence, and here St. 
Leonards dismissed it. 

Running lightly up stairs, he was admitted into the 
siren’s presence by a prearranged signal. 

“Where is Gilbert?” ho demanded. “All this is to be fair 
and above-board. No secrets. We sink or swim together !” 

“I am here,” announced the deep voice of Eoseberry, as 
he parted the rich velvet curtains which divided the two 
rooms. 

He drew a chair near to the divan upon which the 
lovely Isabel was reclining, attired in a morning gown of 
pale pink silk — a gift of Edgar Alston. 

“Who talks of sinking?” the siren said, a little con- 
temptuously. “You have discounted the notes, Mitford?” 

“Yes.” 

The false St. Leonards drew from the breast-pocket of 
his coat a huge wad of bills, and tossed them into Isabel’s 
lap, saying: 


147 


“THE NOTES WERE MADE BY ME !” 

“The whole scheme worked like a charm. The beast of 
a Jew, however, exacted his price, but I could not afford 
to grumble. He ran certain risks, but has already received 
full value for the papers young Alston signed. The old 
man is coming here to-night, and you can get fifteen or 
twenty thousand out of him, if you follow my advice.” 

Isabel’s eyes flashed. 

“I do not require it,” she sneered. 

“You have others to consider besides yourself,” he re- 
minded her, and Koseberry nodded his approval. “The 
Concordia has arrived at Sydney. I don’t want to finish 
up in prison. My liberty is very dear to me, particularly 
now that we have the wherewithal to enjoy life. If you 
choose you can settle wuth Jabez Alston to-night. Within 
a week we should be a thousand miles out at sea.” 

Isabel reflected a moment. 

“I will resolve upon my course of action after I have 
met Mr. Jabez Alston, the flinty-hearted millionaire.” • 

She laughed mirthlessly, her white teeth gleaming like 
pearls. 

“I am not satisfied to let my prey escape me too easily. 
Money soon melts away, and it may be long before an- 
other such chance as this comes in my way. If you are 
afraid, Mitford Palmer, take your share of this and go!” 

‘ ‘ N ever ! ” he hiss ed. “Not without you. ” 

Gilbert Roseberry turned upon him a glance full of 
jealous hatred, and Palmer continued: 

“No, I claim an equal share in the whole of this busi- 
ness, and will not be shaken off like that. We shall be 
safer together ! If you please, we will divide the present 
funds.” 


148 


•THE NOTES WERE MADE BY ME !’ 


For a few minutes no word was spoken, and while 
Palmer carefully placed his share of the money in his 
pocket-hook, Isabel lovingly caressed the pile of bills in 
her lap. 

“Now what of young Alston?’’ Palmer at last demanded. 

“I have done with him,” smiled Isabel. “I shall see him 
no more. To-morrow we leave here, and the furniture must 
he disposed of to the highest bidder. I am very sorry to 
part with all these lovely things, but they are of no fur- 
ther use to me. I must leave the disposal of them in your 
able hands, Mitford. As I have said before, my plans will 
not be formed until I have met Mr. Jabez Alston. The 
young fool must be avoided at any cost. He is just at that 
age when revolvers come very awkwardly into play.” 

Her lip curled contemptuously. 

“I will see you both early to-morrow,” Palmer said, 
reaching for his gloves. “And if you have any influence 
over your wife, Roseberry, try and induce her to see the 
red lights ahead. ” 

The convict scowled, while Isabel flashed a mocking 
glance toward the false St. Leonards. 

“By the way,” he added, “your friend Stimson will 
trouble you no more, Isabel ; he is dead. ” 

“I have read an account of his murder, ’’she replied, 
coolly, “and the news was most agreeable. The only per- 
son I pity is the poor scene-painter.” 

“And he has been no friend of yours of late, ” Palmer 
observed, significantly. “You have your own luck and the 
devil’s, too.” 

“Yes, and I need a few of fortune’s favors,” she smiled 
serenely. “It is a long lane that has no turning, Mitford. 


“THE NOTES WERE MADE BY ME!” 


149 


To-morrow I shall expect you, though I guess that you 
will know from the millionaire what kind of reception he 
meets with at my hands. ” 

As he rose she kissed the tips of her fingers to him, and 
he left the room, his heart filled with love and fury. 

“The beautiful she-devil!” he muttered. “I half believe 
that she cares for me, only this infernal husband of hers is 
in the way. By the living God, there shall be an end to 
this soon ! I will go to my club for a couple of hours. I 
must think — I must think!” 


150 


EDWAliD PIAWLEY’S TROUBLE. 


CHAPTER Xm. , 

EDWARD Hawley’s trouble. 

It was true that Edward Hawley, the scene-painter at 
the Frivolity Theater, had been arrested on suspicion of 
having caused the death of the manager by shooting him 
with a revolver. 

No one was more surprised than Hawley himself. The 
police waited upon him at home at an early hour, and it 
was with the greatest difficulty that he kept the awful 
news from his mother. 

“It is outrageous!” he said, indignantly. “Poor Stim- 
son ! I did not even know that he was dead. I left him at 
three o’clock yesterday afternoon, and have not been to 
the theater since. ” 

There were two officers, and the spokesman interjected-: 

“You quarreled with him?” 

“Yes. I admit that. I have neglected my work lately, 
and he fancied that my time was being spent in the pursuit 
of a worthless woman. It did not suit me to contradict 
this, and we had a few words, that is all. I have not seen 
him since, and I can prove an alibi.” 

“That’s all right, then,” the policeman replied, cheer- 
fully. “You don’t want any fuss here, do you?” 

“Not for worlds! I will say good-by to my mother and 
go with you.” 

He displayed a ten-dollar bill which effectually put a 


EDWARD HAWLEY’S TROUBLE. 151 

bar to any objection on the part of the guardians of the 
law. 

In five minutes he was in a hack and being driven with 
the policemen to the Tombs, where he learned with con- 
siderable astonishment that things looked very black 
against him. He had been seen within a stone’s throw of 
the Frivolity shortly' after midnight, and the revolver 
which had killed Stimson had been found in his work- 
room. 

Conscious of his innocence, he felt certain of speedy re- 
lease and sent for the lawyer who had conducted the affairs 
of his family in the days of their prosperity. 

An application for his release on bail was refused by the 
presiding judge until after the inquest, at all events, and 
Hawley realized completely how friendless a man becomes 
when riches have deserted him. 

His first visitor was Edgar Alston, who, on learning of 
the deep trouble of his old chum, manfully ignored the 
serious quarrel they had had at their last meeting, and called 
on him with the desire of making amends by befriending 
him. After an ample apology for his harsh treatment of 
Hawde3^, he said : 

“How came this about, Ned? I have only just heard of 
it. Oh! it is terrible to see you behind these bars, 
and upon such a charge!” 

“It is bad enough,” admitted Hawley, with a wintry 
sort of smile, “but I shall not be here long! I would not 
care but for my mother, and ” 

He hesitated, and Edgar added: 

“And my sister, Minnie!” 

“It is kind of you to come to see me, old man. I began 


152 EDWAKD HAWLEY’S TEOUBLE. 

to think that I hadn’t a friend left. You will take a mes- 
sage to my. mother for me?” 

“Need you ask?” 

Edgar paced up and dowm opposite his friend’s cell for 
a minute, then went on : 

“And my father shall find the amount of your hail. I 
never intended speaking to him again, hut for this I would 
face the devil himself. You understand that we have 
parted forever?” 

“I have heard something of it. Edgar you are mad! I 
know the resolves you have made, hut I heg of you to 
keep free of any further entanglement with that woman 
for a short time ” 

“Hold! Not one word about her! If she were a daughter 
of the arch-fiend I should love her the same ! When you 
are free we sail for Europe. I will not leave you with this 
hanging over you. You will prove an alihi?” 

“Undoubtedly. I was seen near the theater at the hour 
of the murder, hut I had a companion, who is aiding my 
counsel to make a strong defense.” 

“Have you any suspicion as to the perpetrator of the 
crime? It appears to me to he shrouded in mystery.” 

“I know who did it,” Hawley replied, “but I cannot 
prove it yet.” 

He glanced sharply at his friend. 

“A man?” Edgar asked. 

“No, a woman! I am as positive as though I had seen 
the murder done. ” 

Alston smiled cynically. 

“Some poor creature whom the fellow had wronged?” 
he said. 


•.EDWA.RD HAWLEY’S TKOUBLE. 


153 


“No, a woman who had wronged him — a woman with 
the form of an angel and the heart of a devil — a woman 
who had wronged him, and whose infamous career he had 
threatened to cut short!” 

Alston paled. He would not admit that he understood, 
hut his heart quivered with fear. 

“Pshaw!” he said. “A mere theory! Who is she? What 
is her name?” 

“Isabel Russell!” 

Edgar laughed, then a savage oath escaped him. 

“I am here to help to save you. You shall not make 
this charge agairfst her ! Let me prove to you that you are 
wrong. The murder was done shortly after midnight. I 
was with her the whole of the time. I did not leave until 
the next morning. I will swear to this ! If you hope to 
shield yourself by making this charge against her, I will 
not stand by you!” 

Then he remembered the crimson stain that he had seen 
on her dress, after his heavy sleep, and reeled against the 
wall. But no — no ! it cculd not he ! A thousand times no ! 
Her spells were itill upon him ! 

“We will not speak of the matter now, ” Hawley said, 
after a minute’s silence. “It is in capable hands, and at 
an early day all will he proved. You may yet be ready to 
acknowledge that part of the night was a blank to you, 
Edgar. To-morrow I shall he free!” 

Alston pressed his hands to his throbbing temples. He 
was between two fires. 

“She is not guilty of this,” were the thoughts that 
surged through his brain. “If she is, it was an accident. 
Nothing can change my love for her!” 


J54 


EDWAKD HAWLEY’S TKOUBLE. 


Still his heart was fired with many doubts. He knew 
that he had been guilty of some great indiscretion for her 
sake, but St. Leonards had counseled it, and St. Leonards 
was his friend He had but a hazy notion of what it all 
meant. A large sum of money had to be raised to satisfy 
the cravings of Isabel. St. Leonards had the matter in 
hand, and Alston was debarred the society of his siren 
until the gold could be showered upon her. It might be 
one or two days, and he chafed under the delay. He had 
given his word of honor that he would await Lord St. 
Leonards’* instructions. 

“I will call upon your mother immediately, Ned,” he 
suddenly exclaimed, “but I do not think that I dare face 
my father. I will write to him. He is bound to find the 
amount that your bail is fixed at, no matter what it may 
be. I will also send a letter to Minnie, if that will be any 
consolation to you, though I am afraid that you are 
wasting your love upon a girl who is certain to become 
Lady St. Leonards.” 

“Can it be, old chum, that you favor the suit of this 
titled Briton?” Hawley asked, in tones of reproach. 

“By no means; but what can a girl do in opposition to 
her father’s determination? i am forced to speak well of 
St. Leonards because he has proved himself my friend. I 
shall now leave no stone unturned to help you, Ned ; in- 
deed, it is a relief to have something to do to kill time — 
to keep me from dwelling upon the misery of being 
inactive. It may be the last I can do for you in this 
life. Nothing on earth can part me from Isabel, and as 
we cannot live here untouched by scandal, we will go 
abroad.” _ _ . 


EDWARD HAWLEY’S TROUBLE. 


155 


“I shall see you again?” asked Hawley, feverishly. “Tell 
my mother that it is all a mistake. ’ ’ 

Edgar Alston went away, and hired a cab to take him to 
his friend’s home in Twenty-third street. 

A glance at Mrs. Hawley’s face told him that she knew 
nothing of her son’s trouble; and he broke the news to her 
as gently as possible. 

“At the latest he will be home to-morrow, ” he said. “It 
is one of those peculiar cases when people are arrested 
right and left on mere suspicion. ” 

He went so far as to declare that the whole of the mem- 
bers of the Frivolity company were temporarily locked up ! 

From Twenty-third street he went to his club, and after 
thinking for an hour decided to see his father and sister 
in person. 

It was nearly seven o’clock when he ascended the steps 
of the home he had so recently left, and he stalked 
straight into one of the reception-rooms, instructing a ser- 
vant to send his sister to him. 

“Is my father at home?” he demanded. 

He was informed that Mr. Alston had gone out an hour 
earlier, with Lord St. Leonards, and hardly knew whether 
to feel glad or sorry. 

“Oh, Edgar I am so glad that you are back again,” Min- 
nie said, half tearfully. “I am miserable — utterly miser- 
able now.” 

She had closed the door behind her, and he turned away 
abashed. The very purity of her presence was painful in 
contrast with the woman for whom he felt capable of com- 
mitting any sin. 


156 


EDWAED HAWLEY’S TKOUBLE. 


“I have not come to stay, Minnie,” he replied. “1 am 
here on behalf of my old chum, Edward Hawley.” 

‘‘Bless you for that, Edgar!” 

‘‘I have just left him. Of course he has done no wrong, 
and I intended facing my father. He must find bail. ’ ’ 

“He will do nothing,” sobbed Minnie. “I have appealed 
to him vainly.” 

“And St. Leonards?” 

“I hate him!” she said, vehemently. 

“I will look him up. He will do much for me,” Edgar 
replied. “Still, I have other friends.” 

He looked gloomily out into the street, until he felt his 
sister’s hands laid appealingly on his arm. 

“And what of yourself?” she questioned. “Do you know 
how miserable you have made me?” 

“That is your own fault, Minnie; you object to the wo- 
man of my choice. You open your ears to all that is wicked 
concerning her. It is unfair to me and to her. ” 

“But I have heard so much!” 

“That is just the mischief of it. It is this infernal talk, 
talk, talk that causes trouble. I shall marry Isabel Rus- 
sell, and some day you may condescend to acknowledge 
her.” 

He did not believe so in his heart, and yet his soul was 
steeped in the delirium of the siren’s wiles! 

“You are wondering what I shall do for money,” he 
went on. “You are wondering how we shall live; but I 
am not the helpless fool you imagine me. With St. Leon- 
ards’ help I shall receive a large sum within a few hours-, 
My name is still good on paper, thanks to my father’s 
reputation!” 


EDWARD HAWLEY’S TROUBLE. 


157 


He laughed harshly, then stopped quickly, for his sis- 
ter’s face was as pale as death. 

“Your name on paper,’’ she whispered, “hut no one 
else’s, Edgar!” 

“I am not likely to put myself into a striped suit,” he 
sneered. “A pretty opinion you have formed of me, evi- 
dently I I suppose these are some of my benevolent papa’s 
predictions?” 

He glared savagely at Minnie, and she replied, quickly : 

“Then I was mistaken — I misunderstood papa. When I 
appealed to him to help Edward, he turned upon me with 
a ferocity that I have never seen before. He cursed you — ■ 
he cursed me ! He said that you had stooped so low as for- 
gery — that you had forged his name to many — many 
thousands ” 

“Heavens! No!” 

The perspiration of an awful fear had gathered thickly 
on his brow, He remembered writing something, but had 
placed absolute confidence in Lord St. Leonards. He re- 
membered Isabel’s pleading eyes, and his own helplessness ! 

“Go on, ” he gasped. “Tell me all that he said. ” 

“He had redeemed the forgeries to save you from prison 
— to save the name from disgrace ! I do not understand it 
altogether — he was so inflamed with anger.” 

Edgar dropped into a chair and buried his face in his 
hands. 

“There is some truth in it, Minnie,” he said, at length, 
“but I am under the impression that I only wrote my 
own name, and that St. Leonards indorsed the notes. At 
any rate, what I did was by his advice. It shall all be 
cleared up!” 


158 


EDWARD HAWLEY’S TROUBLE. 


There was an awfnl suspicion in his mind now. 

“If I have been fooled with, ” he muttered, ” I shall find 
it in my heart to shoot somebody dead!” 

His mind was instantly made up. He would ignore the 
X)romises he had made to St. Leonards and Isabel. He re- 
solved to visit his temptress at once, and know exactly 
what had occurred on the previous night. 

“I have lavished the whole wealth of my affection upon 
her,” he thought. “Every dollar of which I am possessed 
— even my honor ! I have insulted my dearest friends — 
scorned the fond love of my sister, and forged my father’s 
name ! And yet, I cannot give her up — I cannot hate her 
— even if she prove as false as Delilah of old. No — no! I 
cannot believe it — I will not believe it!” 

He paced the room for a little while, Minnie watching 
every movement — every expression with anxious interest. 

“You shall be satisfied that all is right, little sister,” he 
said, at last. “St. Leonards would not lend himself to any- 
thing wrong. A British peer!” — he sneered a little — “a 
British peer ! He knows more of this affair than I do. I 
will see him at the earliest possible moment. To-morrow, 
Hawley must be set free ! He has friends, and so have I. 
No further appeal shall be made to my father. If I have 
committed any great crime, let him look to St. Leonards, 
his own particular friend. I will come again to-morrow 
evening, Minnie, and may bring Edward with me. Be 
sure that I shall not leave New York without acquainting 
you with my intentions!” 

He could scarcely repress the sob that rose in his 
throat, and left the house hurriedly. 

As he paused in the portico to button his overcoat, he 


EDWARD IIAWI.EY’S TROUBLE. 


159 


was surprised to see the well-known figure of Detective 
Nathaniel Hawkley on the opposite side of the street. 

“He is watching for me!” muttered Alston, the hot 
blood surging into his head. “Perhaps the old man has 

put him on ! Oh, I am beset with troubles ! I am up to my 

% 

ears in debt, besides — all for her!” 

He hurried away, but was soon aware that the detective 
was close upon his heels, and he wheeled round savagely, 
snarling : 

“Why are you following me?” 

“Oh, don’t put yourself out, sir,” was the suave re- 
joinder. “I must have a few words with you at your club 
or anywhere in private. A matter of life and death. I 
shall be of some service yet to you, Mr. Alston!” 

“Curse you! Call a cab, or wait until one passes, and we 
will drive to the Athenian. If I go through the streets 
with you people will likely imagine that I am under ar- 
rest!” 

He laughed bitterly. 

“I’ve a carriage two blocks away,” replied the detec- 
tive. “You are not under arrest yet, but you’ve been sail- 
ing close to the wind, my young friend. See here, Mr. 
Edgar Alston ! I’ve always had your interests at heart, 
though you have pretended not to believe me. Don’t for- 
get our introduction at Covington!” 

“I never shall! I have all along regarded you as a 
meddlesome fool!” 

“Time will show!” was the sententious rejoinder. “I’ve 
a big case on my hands, and my reputation'is at stake!” 

“Running down the poor fellow who escaped from the 
Frankfort State prison!” 


160 


EDWARD HAWLEY’S TROUBLE. 


“And for whom you were made a guy of by his wife!” 
was the sneering retort. “He is in hiding in New York, 
and I believe that I can lay my hands upon him at any 
moment! Compared with some others, he is the lesser vil- 
lain, and I want the whole nest at one swoop. ” 

“His wife?” whispered Alston, huskily. 

“The woman who sent you the telegram — Isabel Bus- 
sell!” 

Alston clutched at the wall for support. 

“Here is my carriage, sir ! Step in, please,” continued 
the detective, briskly. “My business with you will not 
occupy many minutes, and it is greatly in the interest of 
your friend who is locked up in the Tombs!” 

Sick at heart and bewildered, Edgar Alston obeyed. 
Was he beginning to doubt the truth of his divinity? No, 
not he. He loved her yet ! He would stand by her, and 
defy the whole world ! 


edgak aliston’s better side. 


161 


CHAPTER XIV. 

EDGAR Alston’s better side. 

The carriage pulled up before the Athenian Club, and 
the detective followed young Alston’s lead into the smok- 
ing-room. 

A watchful attendant secured a quiet corner, and stood 
prepared to supply their wants and fence off intruders. 

“You will come to the point quickly, Hawkley?” Edgar 
said. “I have several matters needing my attention to- 
night.” 

The detective smiled as he bit the end of his cigar. 

“I think I can guess a part, at least, of your projected 
movements, but the lovely Queenie will refuse to see you ! 
She has another in her net. ’ ’ 

Alston was about to make a savage rejoinder, when Nat 
held up a warning finger, and continued ; 

“Now listen to me, sir. I took a liking to you from the 
moment I saw you. You’ll excuse a little plain speaking,' 
because I am double your age, and a man of the world. 
You may resent the familiarity of a common policeman, 
but allow me to unmask myself — after you have sworn 
never to divulge my secret until you have permission to 
do so.” 

“Your secrets do not interest me,” retorted Alston. 

“That remains to be seen. Now, sir, your promise!” 

“It is yours,” indifferently. “I have told you that I 


162 


EDGAll ALSTON’S BET'L’EK SIDE. 


have other business in hand. I must find bail for my 
friend. I have been to see my father, but he is out. I had 
the temerity to dare face him after all that has passed so 
recently. ’ ’ 

“You are good-natured,” smiled Hawkley, “but a fool!” 

Alston started and glared at his companion. 

“You are dangerous to yourself and those ^\^ho love you 
best; you are weak, impulsive, vain, and stupid.” 

“Do you want me to punch your infernal head?” 

“You will not attempt that, Mr. Edgar Alston, and 
some day you will reckon me your best friend. You need 
have no anxiety concerning the fate of Edward Hawley. 
His bail will be forthcoming ; and as for the outcome of 
the trial — there will be none for him, because I saw the 
murder done!” 

A mist swam before Alston’s eyes. 

“You!” 

“I!” 

^ There was silence for a minute. The young man dared 
not put the question. His heart yearned for Isabel, and 
yet if she were a murderess ! 

A wave of horror passed over him, and he shuddered. 
The pure sweet face of his sister floated before him, and 
the flash of Queenie’s glorious eyes turned to a snaky glitter. 

“Then my old school chum is safe. Thank God!” 

“Thank God!” repeated Hawkley, “for that, and thank 
God, also, that the vilest creature in the shape of woman 
is nearly run to earth. Stimson died by the hand of Isa- 
bel Kussell — my legal wife!” 

The spell was dissolving from about the younger man, 
and a look of horror was in his eyes. 


EDGAR. ALSTON’S BETTER SIDE. 


163 


“Great Heaven! no!” lie gasped. 

“I have spoken the truth. I married that woman seven 
years since in Philadelphia. I was a leading lawyer there 
— a wealthy man. I was fooled by her, as yon have been 
fooled, and am supposed to be dead. I was the first victim 
who went so far as marriage. The day after the ceremony 
I was drugged by her, and my body tossed into the river 
by the convict who escaped recently from the State prison 
at Frankfort. He has been her favored lover from first to 
last. She is shielding him now. How I was rescued does 
not matter, but the finger of fate was in it. My death was 
reported and generally accepted, and I lived only to be re- 
venged upon the beautiful traitress who had eased me of 
a fortune. My real name is Kussell, and she retains it, 
quite certain that the grave will not give up its dead.” 

“I am appalled by my own folly,” groaned Edgar. 

“I pity more than I blame you,” replied Hawkley, “be- 
cause I have gone through the same ordeal. Her power is 
marvelous. While she repels, it is impossible to escape 
her toils, and she uses her victims as stepping-stones to 
higher game. Even her confederates are subservient to 
the same powder.” 

“I must see St. Leonards,” Edgar exclaimed, suddenly. 
“Help me to hunt him up. Perhaps he has not parted wdth 
the money yet.” 

“The proceeds of your notes?” smiled Hawkley. “My 
dear sir, that was divided hours ago!” 

“Divided! Do you mean to say that he ” 

“Is not Lord St. Leonards any more than you are! His 
make-up is perfect. He is an English swindler, wanted 
for more than one fraud in the old country. To his asso- 


164 


EDGAR ALSTON’S BETTER SIDE: 


ciates here he is Mitford Palmer. One of your gentlemanly 
scoundrels, whose abilities, turned in a different direction, 
would have made an able diplomat. The time is nearly 
ripe for me to strike, and I intend taking the whole nest. 
They have an inkling that I am on their track, but regard 
me merely as a blundering policeman of the usual order. 
The woman will ruin the game yet!” 

Alston sat perfectly bewildered. 

“I think my lesson is about complete,” he said, at last. 
“And I find some satisfaction in knowing that my im- 
maculate father does not come out quite scatheless ! He 
would venture his last dollar on the man he is trying to 
get my sister to marry 1 But what of the real St. Leon- 
ards?” 

“Arrived at Sydney, Australia, yesterday. But for the 
woman the men would vanish with their booty. Think as 
kindly of your father as you can. He is in the siren’s par- 
lor at this moment, with the intention of buying her off!” 

Edgar sprang to his feet with an oath. 

“It must not be. I loathe her! Not another dollar shall 
she have!” 

“We cannot interfere for a day or two, ” Hawkley said. 
“Things must go on as they are. My chain of evidence is 
not quite complete. They shall not escape me !” 

There was a savage glare in his eyes, and the muscles of 
his hands stood out in massive ridges. 

“In one thing only have I failed,” went on the detective,' 
“I have not yet succeeded in locating Roseberry — the man 
whom Isabel favors, and to whorn I believe she has been 
married since she believed me to be dead.” 


“The escaped convict?” 


EDGAR ALSTON’S BETTER SIDE. 


165 


“The same! In this you may help me, as you have had 
free access to my lady’s bower!” 

Alston flushed with genuine mortiflcation. 

“I understand that there is a servant-girl, who is in 
reality the sister of Koseberry, and a lady who passes as 
Isabel’s aunt in the flat which you have furnished so 
charmingly !” went on Mr. Hawkley. “Can you describe 
the aunt?” 

“A tall woman, rather dark. That is practically all I 
know about her,” replied Alston. 

“There is an aunt in reality, you know. In a couple of 
days, at most, I shall be no longer in doubt. Well, I think 
that I can rely upon your discretion, Mr. Alston, ’ ’ con- 
cluded the detective. “Not one word to a living soul! I 
have taken Mr. Hawley’s counsel into my confldence, and 
if you meet’ me at his office to-morrow at ten in the morn- 
ing, we will secure his release.” 

They shook hands cordially, and when Hawkley was 
gone, Edgar sat in silent thought for upward of an hour. 
His position was bitterly humiliating, and he felt that his 
name would soon be a by-word and a jest the length and 
breadth of the land. 

“At last, ” he muttered, savagely. “I am constrained to 
acknowledge that my flinty -hearted father knew what was 
best for me after all, though his own blunders in connec- 
tion with the bogus St. Leonards have evened things up 
pretty much. ” 

This was one grain of comfort, but the way in which he 
had played into the hands of the sham nobleman mad- 
dened him. 

“By Heaven, I could choke him!” 


166 


EDGAR ALSTON’S BETTER SIDE. ' 


He retired to rest but there was no sleep for him. It 
was a night of remorse. How well he remembered now 
that he had gone to Cincinnati almost at the express re- 
quest of his beautiful temptress. To her he had confided 
most of his family history. To her he had spoken half 
jestingly of his duty visits to his Aunt Radcliffe in Cin- 
cinnati. 

“My sister is staying there, ” he had said,” I ought to 
escort her home, but cannot bear to tear myself away from 
you!” 

“Poor dear boy, you must go! It may be the last time 
for years! Your proud aunt will never forgive you for 
caring for poor me! I will write to you — I promise that.” 

He went, and had been made a tool of. All this while 
the siren was in communication with her convict husband 
by means of some secret cipher. He had been lured to 
Covington where the fellow was in hiding and laughed at ! 

" He gnashed his teeth in bitterest rage ! And since then 
he had been robbed of an enormous sum of money — his 
father had been robbed — through him ! 

He was at the office of Edward Hawley’s counsel early 
next morning, but Detective Hawkley did not put in an 
apjiearance. They waited until eleven o’clock, when the 
lawyer said : 

“Foul play! He will not come at all, Mr. Alston.” 

Edgar’s face was pale and stern. 

“It is hard to believe that such villainy can be in the 
very heart of New York!” 

“And will never cease until men are strong enough to 
withstand the wiles of bad women, ’ ’ the lawyer replied, • 
sharply. 


EDGAR ALSTON’S BETTER SIDE. 


167 


He summoned an ofiQce-boy and dispatched him for a 
cab. 

“Hawkley promised to find bail,” he went on. “My 
chief clerk will attend to Hawley’s business untihwe have 
made a few visits.” 

“How much money will be wanted?” 

“Twenty thousand dollars, probably. I am not at liberty 
to speak what I know without Hawkley’s permission. He 
may be on the track of the birds, but I fear the worst. No 
word of him, you see, and he is punctuality itself.” 

“Telegrams miscarry sometimes, ” Edgar said. “Don’t 
worry about the money. My father will find it. I feel that 
he will do anything for me now that he sees I am thor- 
oughly repentant. ” 

The lawyer smiled. 

They left the office and entered the cab, which was 
ordered to No. — East Thirty-fourth street, the residence 
of Hawkley. 

When the cab stopped, the janitor came forward. 

“Mr. Hawkley in?” asked the lawyer. 

“No, sir.” 

“Have you seen him this morning?” 

“Yes, he went away early,” the man replied. 

Alston breathed freely again. 

“You are sure of it?” 

“Quite sure, sir; I wished him good-morning. I was 
just sweeping down the stairs.” 

“Strange!” muttered the lawyer. Then, aloud: “I 
think he lives in a couple of rooms— quite alone?” 

“Yes, sir. Furnished rooms, and my wife cleans them 
up for him. When he’s in he always has his meals up 


168 


EDGAR ALSTON’S BETTER SIDE. 


stairs. He came home late last night, and went out again 
before daylight. He told me he might be away a day or 
two.” 

The lawyer hesitated a moment, then he said: 

“Much obliged, ” and tossed the man a coin. “No. — 
Park avenue. ” he called to the driver. “Hurry up. ” 

Alston flushed and paled by turns. 

“What is your theory now?” he demanded. 

“I am half in doubt, ” was the reply. “I believe that the 
janitor is an honest fellow, but I can’t understand Hawk- 
ley. The nest in Park avenue may have been broken up, 
and the detective is on the scent. I am going there to con- 
vince myself. We have to deal with a gang of the cutest 
swindlers the present century has seen. The more terrible 
their situation, the brighter their wits. No ordinary man 
can cope with them, and the presiding genius is a woman. 
It was a woman who indirectly caused the downfall of the 
most remarkable statesman of any age. Princess Marie 
d’Orleans was the conscious artiflcer of Bismarck’s ruin — 
while kings and empires trembled at his word! It has 
ever been so, and will go on until the world is in ashes. ’ ’ 

When the cab turned into Park avenue Alston felt his 
heart leap with fury. Isabel Russell’s power was gone. 
In its place was soruething akin to the hate that burned in 
Hawkley’s breast. 

Outwardly the building looked the same, and the law- 
yer decided first to put one or two questions to the janitor. 

These elicited nothing. So many people came in and out 
that he had noticed no one in particular. The tenants of 
the apartments indicated had certainly not gone away to 
his knowledge. 


EDGAR ALSTON’S BETTER SIDE. 


169 


Meanwhile, Edgar had remained seated in the cab, but 
at a signal from the lawyer, he joined him. 

“Precede me up stairs, Mr. Alston, ” he said. “I pre- 
sume you have a latch-key?” 

Edgar acknowledged that he had been so far favored, 
a guilty flush mounting to his brow, but that there were 
times when it was useless. 

“Aha! When the she-devil had another of her play- 
things in the way!” 

The latch-key would not open the door, and Alston 
knocked smartly. 

“They have not gone yet,” the lawyer whispered, ’’and 
I intend to put the place in the hands of the police forth- 
with ! I will bear the blame if I do wrong. ’ ’ 

A bolt was shot back, and the door was opened by a 
seedy-looking fellow, who regarded them questioningly. 

“Hello!” he said. “What do you want?” 

“Is Miss Russell within?” demanded the lawyer. 

“Don’t know nobody of that name,” replied^ the man, 
curtly. “Ask the people in the next flat.” 

He attempted to kick the door to, but Alston pushed for- 
ward. 

“This place belongs to me,” he said. “I am the tenant, 
and all the furniture is mine.” 

“Indeed!” 

The man laughed. 

“I don’t think it is, though. My boss bought and paid 
for it not an hour since, and we’re going to move it this 
morning. I’m left here in charge till the van comes 
along!” 

He handed to the lawyer the card of his employer who 


170 


EDGAR ALSTON S BETTER SIDE. 


could produce receipts, and explain under what circum- 
stances the goods had been purchased. 

This man was visited at once, but he could only repeat 
what had already been told them. It was his business to 
buy second-hand goods. A gentleman had called ui)on him 
the previous day, explaining that he was wishful to sell 
his furniture because the woman he had been supporting 
had deserted him. Having assured himself that it was free 
of a chattel mortgage, he had paid cash for it and left a 
man in possession. His description of the gentleman who 
had conducted the transaction tallied with that of the 
sham St. Leonards. Such transactions were of almost 
daily occurrence. 

The lawyer and Edgar Alston returnued to their cab 
completely nonplused. 

“Baffled! We will go back to my office and see if any 
telegram or news of Hawkley has arrived. It is possible 
that he is tracking this Mitford Palmer, who has been 
masquerading as Lord St. Leonards.” 

There was no message at the office, and they were taken 
down town to the great Wall street financier. 

“You will permit me to have five minutes with my 
father alone, ” Edgar said. “By the way, I do not know 
your name. sir. ’ ’ 

“Abel McKeen, of the firm of McKeen & Co. I guess 
Mr. Jabez Alston and I have met before. I will remain in 
the waiting-room. You have a good nerve, young man, 
after all that has passed!” 

Edgar pushed his way through the clerk’s office, and was 
conscious of a sudden cessation of the half-audible whis- 
pering, mingled with the scratching of a hundred pens. 


EDGAR' ALSTON’S BETTER SIDE. 


171 


Mr. Billings, the confidential manager, started with sur- 
prise, and hurried from his office. 

“Is my father here?” stammered Edgar. 

“Yes, Mr. Edgar; but ” 

‘ ‘ That is sufficient. ’ ’ 

“You will permit me to announce you?” 

“No, I might be refused an audience, and it is most 
urgent. Is he alone?” 

Billings replied in the affirmative, and having tapped 
the door of his father’s private room, the young man 
stepped inside. 

Jabez Alston was a man of iron nerves, but he could not 
control his astonishment at being thus suddenly con- 
fronted by his erring son. 

“Edgar!” he ejaculated; then he turned away his face, 
and his knees trembled under him. 

Edgar did not notice this, but burst out impulsively : 

“I have not come to make excuses for my unpardonable 
conduct, father. I am here on behalf of an innocent man 
who is lying in prison.” 

“How do you know that he is innocent?” 

There was an impatient ring in Jabez Alston’s tones. 

“Mr. McKeen, his counsel, is without. He has absolute 
proof that Hawley never injured the murdered man.” 

“And what do you want of me?” 

“The amount of his bail assured — a matter of a few 
thousands.” 

“And why should you apply to me?” demanded Jabez 
Alston, sternly. “If you care so much for your friend, 
surely it will be no hardship to employ a portion of that 
which I was forced to make good yesterday.” 


172 EDGAR ALISTOM’S BETTER SIDE. 

He paused and fixed a penetrating glance upon his son. 

“Father!” cried the young man, in agony, “I have acted 
the part of a fool — a madman ; but I have not been re- 
sponsible for my actions ! Do not judge me too hardly ! 
When I signed your name, I knew not what I w’as doing. 
I was under some spell of enchantment. ’ ’ 

“Drunk!” murmured the elder man. 

Then aloud : 

“And the money?” 

“I have never seen one dollar of it — but,” fiercely, “it 
shall every cent be returned to you.” 

Jabez Alston smiled, then looked pityingly toward his 
son. Edgar did not understand that glance then, but he 
had cause to remember it long afterward. 

“I forgive you freely; we are all weak. It is human to 
be weak, and you are young!” 

His son was almost overwhelmed. He had never ex- 
pected such kindness as this. 

“Father, you shall have no cause to comiilain of me 
hereafter. I have learned my lesson. I have been scorched, 
and thank the blessed fates, I am not destroyed. I shall 
never see Isabel Kussell again. I hate and abhor her 
now!” 

The financier moved uneasily in his seat, and averted 
his face. 

“I am glad to hear it,” was all he replied. “You will 
return to your duties, Edgar — you will go home at once — 
you will attend to your business at the office. And now 
about Hawley. I am glad to believe that he is innocent. I 
will do what I can for him, on one condition. He must 
give up all pretension to the hand of your sister — particu- 



EDGAR ALSTON’S BETTER SIDE. 173 

larly after this scandal. You know my wishes — you know 
that I am determined that she shall marry Lord St. Leon- 
ards!” 

Edgar sprang up and paced the floor. He must not break 
the confidence that had been reposed in him. He smiled 
inwardly. His sister had not much to fear from Lord St. 
Leonards 1 

“I do not think that Ned Hawley will ever stand in his 
light, father,” he replied. “Without your sanction, he 
never shall.” 

“Then I will empower his counsel to use my name for 
any reasonable amount. ’ ’ 

He turned to press ' an electric button in his desk, but 
paused. 

“Edgar, ” he said, “the past is forgotten. Understand, 
I care nothing for the money. It is your loss, as the duties 
of this business may soon devolve upon you, under the 
guidance of Billings. I have suddenly conceived the idea 
of retiring. With you and Minnie married— and you will 
be sure to marry soon— the old home will be dull and 
lonesome. I may marry again!” 

“Father!” 

If the earth had opened Edgar could not have been more 
astonished. 

“There, we will say no more about it at present. Only 
be as lenient toward me, should occasion ever arise for 
my actions to be subject to your criticisms, as I have been 
to you. Shake hands, boy. Now let Mr. McKeen be shown 
in!” 


174 


DISASTER TOR DETECIIVE HAWKLEY. 


CHAPTER XV. 

DISASTER FOR DETECTIVE HAWKLEY. 

That same day Edward Hawley was admitted to bail, 
upon the urgent representation of his able counsel, that 
the police were upon the track of the real murderer. 

He at once hastened to his mother, accompanied by Ed- 
gar Alston, and, after a half-hour’s earnest conversation, 
his spirits resumed their usual buoyancy. 

“Your father’s conduct is extraordinary,” he said. 
“There must be a stratum of warmth underlying his 
outward coldness. I never dreamed that he would forgive 
you so soon, and so completely. As for myself, I am con- 
tent to abide by the terms you have made, and you will 
take my message to Minnie! You do not object to me now 
as your future brother-in-law, old man?” 

A silent pressure of hands was the only reply, and Haw- 
ley could scarcely believe that he was the miserable, hope- 
less wretch of a few short hours ago. He had heard the 
whole story of Isabel Russell. 

Edgar remained to dinner with the Hawleys, then went 
back to his hotel, where he gave instructions for his 
trunks to be sent back home. 

• It was growing dark when he mounted the marble 
steps, and his heart beat lighter than he had known it for 
years. 

“Send my sister to me,” he told the footman, airily. 


DISASTER FOR DETECTIVE HAWKLEY. 175 

‘And order my apartments to be aired and put in habit- 
able shape.” 

The wondering servant went away, for the sudden de- 
parture of Mr. Edgar had been the gossip of the hour. 

Minnie ran into the room, her sweet face drawn with 
anxiety. 

“Edgar!” 

She was bewildered by his happy smiles. 

“I have good news, dear,” he said, kissing her fondly. 
“Edward is safe at home, and entirely out of danger! And 
behold in your erring brother a changed man ! The meta- 
morphosis is complete ! The spell is lifted, and I am awake 
again ! But I suppose papa has told you something of my 
regeneration? And that I have returned home again like 
the penitent prodigal, though how I shall liquidate the 
debts I have contracted, Heaven only knows ! I will never 
touch whisky again ! The fiery spirit has ever been my be- 
setting sin. And let me whisper in your ear, little sis, 
your marriage with Edward is certain, and Lord St. Leon- 
ards is nowhere ! At present I am not at liberty to say 
more!” 

“Oh, Edgar!” 

That was all that Minnie could give utterance to for a 
few moments. The news seemed to be too good to be true. 

“You have seen papa?” she added, her face covered with 
happy blushes. 

“And am forgiven! The old man is a brick! The woman 
who enslaved me — who made a miserable tool of me, I 
now loathe more than I can tell. Do not ask me more at 
present. In a very short time you will know all. It is a 
terrible story. Is my father busy?” 


176 DISASTER FOR DETECTIVE HAWKLEY. 

Minnie opened her eyes in wonderment. 

“I thought you knew. He told me this morning not to 
expect him, as he had pressing business some distance 
from New York. He will probably not return home to- 
night, and I am so glad that you are here!” 

“Strange!” muttered Edgar; “hut I suppose it is all 
right.” 

It was late when he retired, and his last thoughts were 
of his father and Detective Hawkley. 

While these important events are crowding one upon 
another, how have matters fared with the detective? 

When he left the Athenian Club, after his conversation 
with Edgar Alston, it was his intention to go to his apart- 
ments. His business for the day had been concluded in a 
most satisfactory manner, and he fully believed that with- 
in a few hours the whole of his fish would be landed ! 

“I will face her!” he hissed. “I will unmask her at the 
last moment, and the wrongs of the past will be fully 
avenged ! Curse her fair face ! Curse her black heart ! 
For years have I been baffled, but the men who call them- 
selves Roseberry and Palmer shall acknowledge that I am 
their master at last!” 

Unconsciously his footsteps wandered in the direction of 
the well-known apartment-house on Park avenue, and he 
turned his eyes toward the two brilliantly illumined win- 
dows of the fioor occupied by the traitress and her confed- 
erates, who lived but to prey upon their fellow-creatures. 

Muttering a savage oath of triumph, he was passing on 
when he saw that which filled him with astonishment. 

The fashionable coupe of the great Wall street financier 
drove up to the door, and five minutes later Jabez Alston 


DISASTER FOR DETECTIVE HAWKLEY. 


177 


himself left the house of the deceiver, entered the car- 
riage, and was rapidly driven homeward. 

“I understood that it w^as possible Jabez Alston would 
try and buy up my beauteous Isabel,” he thought, “but I 
did not think that he would remain five or six hours in 
my lady’s parlor, and finally leave it in an advanced state 
of intoxication!” 

He could not resist a chuckle, and having taken a final 
glance at the brilliant windows above, he turned away. 

“If I were sure,” he muttered, “that the aunt is Gilbert 
Rioseberry in disguise, the whole nest should be secured 
to-morrow ! I must not blunder this time. He is as slip- 
pery as an eel, and I do not forget who supplanted me in 
her affections ! Bah ! I am a fool still ! But I hate him 1 
He it was who cast me into the river to drown!” 

He walked rapidly until he reached Thirty-fourth street, 
when he was rudely jostled by a man who appeared to be 
the worse for drink. 

“Sorry, ole boysh,” he hiccoughed; “dashed sorry. 
Letsh have a drink!” 

Hawkley was about to move aside, when he received a 
terrific blow over the head with a piece of lead pipe. 

The supposed drunken man had straightened up like* a 
dart, and moved with the activity and ferocity of a tiger. 

As Hawkley reeled, he seized him in a pair of powerful 
arms, carried him half a block, and deposited him through 
the doors of a basement, which opened conveniently at the 
proper moment. Casting a swift glance behind, and feel- 
ing assured that his assault upon the detective had not 
been noticed, hp, too, dropped into the cellar, and closed 
the doors after him. 


178 


DISASTEU FOR DETECTIVE HAWKLEY. 


“A lucky stroke that, ” he said to the man in charge. 
‘‘Now see here, Stumpy, mum’s the word, and you get a 
hundred-dollar hill for your trouble, if you do as I tell you 
to do. I have no wish to kill this fellow, but he has be- 
come a duse of a nuisance. ’ ’ 

“Make it two hundred,” replied the man — an ugly dwarf 
with a grimy face. “And I’ll risk it. I’ll swear he fell 
down here, and that’ll be all I know about it. We were 
pals on the Island, and may be again some day!” 

“Not if I know it, ” shuddered Palmer, for he it was. 

He bent over the prostrate Hawkley, adding : 

“By thunder ! I must have hit him hard. He won’t wake 
up for a few hours, and when he does he won’t know any- 
thing. Lend a hand to carry him into the room beyond 
where we can exchange clothing. Where’s my valise?” 

' “Safe!” 

In a few minutes Palmer was attired in Hawkley ’s 
clothing, and proceeded to make himself up exactly like 
the detective, with the aid of a wig, a false beard, and 
some paint. 

“Elegant, ” grinned the dwarf. “You’ll pass for him 
anywhere. Palmer.” 

Palmer smiled. 

“I guess that will put an end to Mr. Detective’s little 
game, at least until we are safe away. Why not quit this 
hole, Stumpy, and leave him to his fate.” 

“How much?” 

The man’s eyes shone with avarice. 

“You see I run a big risk. Flight is an admission of 
guilt, and my record is bad!” 

“Five hundred?” 


DISASTER FOR DETECTIVE HAWKLEY. 179 

“A thousand!” 

‘‘It shall he yours. Meet me to-morrow morning, seven 
o’clock sharp, at the old place. If I fail you, you are at 
liberty to give me away!” 

‘‘I am not afraid. I shall be back in Germany before he 
is discovered. I don’t think he will speak again!” 

A little later Mitford Palmer wished him good- night, 
and walked direct to Hawkley’s apartment. He had pos- 
sessed himself of the whole of his papers and latch-key. 

“I can sleep here as well as anywhere else, ” he thought, 
“and must take care to show myself to the janitor in the 
morning. He will then answer any inquiries that may be 
made in a suitable manner.” 

He let himself into the detective’s rooms, slept soundly 
until four o’clock in the morning, then carefully dressed. 
The likeness would have almost deceived .Hawkley him- 
self, and Palmer smiled. 

“If I were superstitious,” he thought, as he surveyed 
his reflection in the glass, “I should be half inclined to be- 
lieve that the ghost of the meddlesome detective stood be- 
fore me ! I wonder it he is dead?” 

He waited until he heard the janitor moving about be- 
low, then he opened his door quietly and went down stairs. 

In the half light he had no fear that his disguise would 
be penetrated, and he nodded in a familiar way at the 
man, saying: 

“Don’t be surprised if I’m not back for a day or two, 
janitor. Good-morning.” 

“Good-morning, Mr. Hawkley,” was the reply, and 
Mitford Palmer passed out into the street with a satisfied 
smile on his evil face. 


180 DISASTEK FOR DETECTIVE HAWKLEY. 

“I wonder if I could imitate the detective’s voice like 
that again,” he laughed to himself. 

He hesitated a moment, and gave a swift glance to the 
right and left. Then he started with quick steps in the 
direction of Park avenue, muttering : 

‘ ‘In a couple of hours the birds will have flown! Who 
holds the trump card, Mr. Nathaniel Hawkley? Next I 
must settle matters with Stumpy, and when he is disposed 
of, I fight for Isabel and liberty!” 


NO. 33 HAWTHORI^E AVENUE, RIDGEWAY, N. J. 181 


CHAPTER XVI. 

NO. 33 HAWTHORNE AVENUE, RIDGEWAY, N J. 

The flinty-hearted flnancier was driven to the apart- 
ment house on Park avenue with the set determination in 
his heart of saving his son at almost any cost from the 
wiles of an unscrupulous siren. 

“The creature cares nothing for the mad-brained fool,” 
he thought, his thin lips wreathing with contempt. “Has 
not St. Leonards told me so? It is a stern duty— it is a 
natural duty that I make one more efiPort to save the boy, 
and now I am possessed of a lever which he dare not try 
to withstand. If he does, by Heaven, I will forget that I 
am his father, and he shall feel the cold steel about his 
wrists ! Even this would be a kindness to him ! Bah ! why 
should I doubt the power of this !” 

He tapped his breast-pocket, wherein was hidden his 
check-book. 

“This painted Jezebel — this modern Delilah will per- 
haps drive a hard bargain, but the victory is mine!” 

When the coupe stopped before the building, wherein 
resided the beautiful Isabel, a smile of flerce derision 
passed over his hard face. He sprang to the pavement, 
saying to the coachman : 

“Be here in half an hour, William. I do not care for my 
carriage to be seen Standing in this neighborhood.” 

The discreet William understood, and in one minute the 


182 NO. 33 HAWTHORNE AVENUE, RIDGEWAY, N. J. 

financier’s coupe was being slowly driven in the direction 
of Central Park. 

Jabez Alston strode firmly up the broad steps, and for 
one moment stood irresolute in the portico. Why was 
this sudden fear? How many times had he faced the 
fiercest crisis, without a tremor, when millions were at 
stake, and now his heart failed him on the threshold of a 
siren’s bower! 

“Who are you looking for, sir?” the voice of the janitor 
broke in. He had observed the arrival of the carriage, and 
followed the financier into the portico. 

“Ah!” replied Jabez Alston, flushing. “Does a person — 
a lady reside here named Russell?” 

“Third floor, sir,” the man said. 

“Thank you!” 

He fancied that there was a faint smile of amusement 
on the janitor’s face, and turned abruptly toward the 
stairs. He strode up in a dignified manner, muttering be- 
tween his teeth : 

“I will crush this den of infamy!” 

He ascended to the third floor, then tapped smartly on 
one of the doors in the richly carpeted hallway. He was 
not kept waiting one needless moment, for the janitor had 
taken the precaution to ring the electric bell, and almost 
before he was aware of it, Jabez Alston found hirnself be- 
ing ushered into a splendidly appointed parlor by a ser- 
vant-maid. 

“I would like to see your mistress for a short time, 
alone,” he said, tendering his card.’ 

The girl withdrew, and he looked about him with keen 
interest. The costly furniture, the velvet carpets, the 


NO. J3 HAWTHOKNE AVENUE, RIDGEWAY, N. J. 183 

pictures in their lavish settings, the richly einhroiderod 
silk curtains, the hric-a-hrac and ornaments, ho knew in- 
tuitively were the gifts of his deluded son. 

“She is evidently of musical tastes,” he sneered to him- 
self. “A mandolin, a harp, a piano, and a zither! But of 
course the woman has been a singer and a dancer before 
the footlights! Now I can mentally conjure before me the 
creature with whom I have to deal ! A bold-eyed, florid 
beauty, with the arts and cunning of Satan!” 

He sniffed at the delicately scented air, for the subtlety 
of the siren’s presence was felt everywhere. 

All at once there was the rustle of drapery; the silk em- 
broidered portieres that screened a farther chamber were 
gently parted, revealing a woman, the most beautiful and 
bewitching he had ever beheld. 

Jabez Alston rose to his feet, saying, politely : 

“Miss Isabel Russell?” To himself he thought: “By 
heaven, I don’t wonder at the poor boy’s infatuation!” 

The siren advanced toward him with a half timidity 
that was charming, every movement one of studied grace, 
and murmured in musical accents. 

“You are Edgar’s father — I know it, because he has 
told me of you, and how you hate me!” 

There was a piteous note in the concluding words, and 
the financier courteously conducted Isabel to a lounge, for 
she had paused before him, a pathetic ifleading in her 
luminous eyes. 

“Impossible, madame, ” he said. “How could I hate 
you, when I havQ never seen you until this moment? It is 
true that I have felt some alarm concerning my son’s love 


184 NO. 33 HAWTHOENE AVENUE, RIDGEWAY, N. J. 

escapades. I heard that you had been a danseuse, and nat- 
urally concluded that ” 

“I was no suitable wife for the son of a New York 
millionaire!” Miss Russell added, brightly. 

“Yes,” assented Jabez Alston, half reluctantly,* feasting 
his eyes upon her wondrous beauty, “but I had no idea 
that you were a lady,” he added, lamely. 

She was smiling at him brightly now, and he began to 
feel uneasy. 

“I am waiting to hear the storm of wrath that you had 
prepared for me, Mr. Alston,” Isabel said, softly. “Do 
you know that I felt afraid of you when I read the name 
on the card that you sent in? I expected to meet an ogre, 
or something else equally terrible.” 

Mr. Alston flushed guiltily, and began to envy his son 
the possession of this glorious woman. 

“Now tell me, honestly,” she went on, with an in- 
genuousness that bewildered him, “now tell me all that 
you intended saying to me.” 

“No, I cannot,” Jabez said. “I could not be unkind to 
you ” 

He felt the hot blood pulsing through every artery in 
his being. 

“That is a confession,” she told him. “You did mean 
to be unkind to me!” 

Her eyes compelled him to make answer, and he re- 
plied : 

“I could not be harsh toward a lady so beautiful and so 
good — yes, I am sure that you are good — as you are lovely. 
Miss Russell. I expected to meet one of the ordinary 
dancing women— pretty, perhaps, but brazen and vulgar. 


NO. 33 HAWTHORNE AVENUE, RIDGEWAY, N. J. 185 

I came to ask such a creature to release my silly son — I 
came to purchase his release. ’ ’ 

Isabel opened her eyes in well-simulated wonderment ; 
then she said, haughtily : 

“I would not accept one penny of your money, Mr. 
Alston. I would enter no family that refused to honor 
me!” 

“But you are not the creature I expected to see, ” he in- 
terrupted, hastily. “You are too good — a million times too 
good for my hot-headed, capricious boy. ’ ’ 

Her face was averted, and he thought that he saw tears 
trembling on her eyelids. 

“Have I insulted her?” he thought. “Great Heaven, I 
would rather root out my tongue!” 

“Miss Russell!” he cried, “pardon me, I beg.” 

He was beside her, and had seized one of her hands. 
The very touch was like an electric thrill. 

“Miss Russell!” 

She turned her lovely eyes to his, and they were swim- 
ming in tears. 

“I was hurt a little,” she whispered. “Oh, Mr. Alston, 
it seems horrible that you should have thought me capable 
of being so dreadful a woman ! Now if you will sit beside 
me, I will make a confession that may surprise you.” 

The financier obeyed, his brain in a whirl, a delightful 
thrill at his heart. 

For a minute he strove to conquer the mad delirium, 
then he regretted with exceeding bitterness that the days 
of his youth were past, an(jl he felt that he almost hated 
Edgar for being young and handsome. 

“You may hold my hand if you like,” Isabel said, softly. 


183 NO. 33 HAWTHOKNE AVENUE, RIDGEWAY, N. J. 

“My fear of you has gone, Mr. Alston. I have heard so 
much of the terrible millionaire that I naturally expected 
to meet a monster in human shape. And then, millionaires 
in any form are usually supposed to be awe-inspiring be- 
ings!” 

She spoke with a simple naivete that was irresistible, 
and he gallantly kissed her taper fingers, replying:^ 

“Excuse me. Miss Russell. Some day you may be my 
daughter!” 

He uttered the words, a bitter pang at his heart. 

“No,” she said, sadly but earnestly; “I can never be 
that, Mr. Alston. I am sorry for Edgar, but I do not love 
him. He is altogether too young and irresponsible. His 
fancy is too fieeting. He professes that his passion for me 
is consuming him, but I know only too well that it is all 
on the surface, and the next pretty face will disillusionize 
him. Until I meet with one whom I can respect as well as 
love, I will never marry. A woman cannot respect a man 
years younger than herself . ” 

She cast upon him one of her bewitching glances, and 
the world was forgotten ! 

“I am a Bohemian, ” she went on, “and most of my 
friends are Bohemians. Society does not regard us kindly 
but there is a charm in our unconventional lives that the 
slaves of society may never enjoy. It is wrong for me to 
entertain you, Mr. Alston, but where is the harm?” 

“It is not wrong. Miss Russell,” he said, hoarsely; “it 
is delightful.” 

“If you think so, I shall ask you to sup with me. My 
aunt can play propriety !” 

She laughed mockingly, and a minute later was rippling 


NO. 33 HAWTHORNE AVENUE, RIDGEWAY, N. J. 187 

off a song at the piano, in tones that thrilled the old 
financier through and through. For ten or fifteen minutes 
she sang and played, then suddenly sprang up and rang a 
hell, in obedience to which the maid brought in a variety 
of wines. 

“If you dare to smoke, Mr. Alston, ” said Isabel, when 
the girl had retired, “pray do so. I love the fumes of 
good tobacco, and — shall I confess it? — I am occasionally 
fond of a cigarette myself! Are you shocked?” she added, 
softly. 

“Shocked!” he murmured. “My Heaven, everything 
that you do is perfect. Miss Russell!” 

He sipped his wine, and his eyes rarely left her face. 
The very glamour of her witching presence steeped his 
senses in a mad delirium. 

The hours passed, and he forgot his waiting coachman. 
He supped with the enchantress, and listened to the music 
of her tones, and reveled in the beauty of her smiles until 
he felt that for one sweet word from her the world were 
all well lost ! 

At last he was startled by the chiming of one hour from 
midnight, and he prepared to fly from her presence. 

“Shall we ever meet again,” she said, sadly. 

“We must,” he replied, fiercely. “Oh, Isabel — I am an 
old man, but within me you have awakened the fires of 
youth ! I am rich, and my fortune shall be lavished upon 
you. People will call me weak and childish, but I care for 
nothing if you will smile upon me.” 

He fell upon his knees;- and kissed her hands abjectly, 
while maudlin tears streamed from his eyes. 

“I leave here at once, ” she whispered. “I leave here to 


188 NO. 33 HAWTHOKNE AVENUE, RIDGEWAY, N. J. 


escape the attentions of your son. You shall have my new 
address to-morrow!” 

“Oh, Isabel! One word of hope!” he gasped. 

“It is yours, Mr. Alston. I can love and respect a man 
— but a boy, never!” 

She permitted him to kiss and fondle her hansds, and at 
length he reeled into the street — her terrible spell upon 
him. 

The next morning he received in a scented envelope a 
card, upon, which was penciled: 

“Dear Mr. Alston: — ^My future address is No. 33 Haw- 
thorne avenue, Ridgeway, New Jersey. Do not let Edgar 
know of it for worlds. I shall expect you soon. 

“Yours, Isabel Russell.” 

The foolish old man pressed the writing to his lips, in a 
frenzy of delight. 

' “I am not too old to love,” he thought, “with a passion 
that young men never dream of!” 


A FATHEll’S THKEAT. 


189 


CHAPTER XVII. 

A father’s threat. 

The change that took place in Jahez Alston was marvel- 
ous. It was noticed at home, at the office, and among busi- 
ness friends, who commented upon it freely. 

Though scrupulously neat and clean at all times, the 
financier had never cared for fashionable clothing. He 
rather affected the puritan dress of two or three decades 
past, and delighted in a high keen-edged collar that seemed 
to accentuate the stern lines in his thin face, and give him 
generally an appearance of resolute coldness. 

For thirty years he had never been known to be half an 
hour late at business. He had shot through the outer 
office, never deigning to notice any one except to cast a 
fierce glance at some delinquent caught whispering. For 
thirty years had this been his rule, and now he had missed 
business for two whole days in one week, and had been 
seen in Broadway attired in a suit of the latest cut and 
pattern ! 

If the metamorphosis of Alston, senior, was a matter for 
curious speculation, so was the remarkable change in 
Alston, junior. 

Edgar attended to business with the regularity of clock- 
worJr, and, under the guidance of Billings, made progress 
that was astonishing to ^himself and those friends who 
cared to interest themselves in his movements. He worked 


190 


A FATHER’S THREAT. 


early and late, and there was an eager restlessness in his 
manner that convinced Billings that the young man was 
overdoing things. 

“We shall make a man of you yet, ” his father told him. 
“Edgar, you cannot estimate what joy this change for the 
better gives to me. My hoy,” — he spoke nervously — “I 
intend retiring from the firm. I am growing old, while 
you are full of youth and vigor. I have w^asted the best 
years of my manhood, but it is not too late to try and 
make amends. Of course, when the old ship needs my 
hand at the helm in times of storm, I shall be within call, 
but that will not be often.” 

He paced the carpeted fioor restlessly,' and averted his 
eyes from those of his son. 

“This is most unexpected, father,” Edgar replied. “I 
wonder that you dare place so much confidence in me — 
after — after ’ ’ 

“Don’t mention it, my boy— don’t mention it. I have 
been hard, callous, cruel ! I have made no allowance for 
the fire that is natural to young blood. Again, I cannot 
but admire your courage, upon finding- that 'your latest— 
ah — love affair did not ” 

“Father, if you love me,” Edgar interrupted, “never 
mention that wanton to me again ! t have rooted the she- 
devil out of my heart!” 

Jabez Alston held up one hand imploringly. 

“There, there,” he said. “You will forgive her some 
day.” 

‘ ‘Never ! Curse her 1’ ' the young man answered, vehem- 
ently. “Now, father, let us understand each other,' once 
and for all. At last I realize my duty to myself — to you. 


A FATHER’S THREAT. 


191 


and to the community at large. There is no fear that I 
shall ever fall again. I am a changed being. You profess 
to have forgiven all, and to repose in me your confidence. 
I am glad of this, and while things are undergoing so 
happy a change, I desire you to make me one promise that 
affects the life-long happiness of my sister and your 
daughter, Minnie. ’ ’ 

The financier frowned, and for a moment the old lines 
came into his face. 

“You are about to speak of Hawley,” he said, slowly. 
“Do not ask too much of me. Remember that he is under 
the grave charge of murder. ” 

“I have not forgotten this, neither have I forgotten that 
the day of his trial is fast approaching, but I swear that 
he will not be called upon to stand in the dock, for I have 
discovered the real murderer!” 

Mr. Alston raised his eyebrows in surprise. 

“If that is so, ” he said, “time will prove it, and upon 
one condition I give my full consent to Edward Hawley’s 
marriage with my daughter. Upon one condition, I re- 
nounce the hopes of years, and will request Lord St. 
Leonards ” 

“The condition!” interrupted Edgar, a bitter smile 
wreathing his lips at the mention of the false St. Leonards. 

The financier regarded him keenly for a minute, then 
averted his eyes, saying : 

“Mj’’ son, I am nearly sixty years of age, and I have had 
enough of the rocks and thorns of life. I have accumulated 
a vast fortune, half of which I intend enjoying — probably 
in the married state. ’ ’ He halted and flashed a quick 
glance at his son. “Yes, ’he went on, “I meditate mar- 


192 


'a FATHER’S THREAT. 


riage — immediate marriage. The other half of my fortune 
I will settle upon you, Edgar, and Minnie — upon the con- 
dition that you welcome my wife.” 

“Great Heaven!” gasped Edgar. 

“Yes, I know that it is sudden, but men much older 
than I marry again. ’ ’ 

“I don’t see how I dare object, sir,” Edgar said, after a 
minute’s silence, “even if I desired to do so. lam sure 
that your offer is most magnanimous. What is the lady’s 
name? Who is she?” 

“For the present that remains a secret,” his father re- 
plied. “At the lady’s request. ” 

He gave utterance to an insane chuckle, and Edgar eyed 
him in wonderment. 

“Welcome my wife, Edgar, in a way that is due to your 
new mother, and that very day you and Minnie become 
possessed of half my fortune. Slight her, and by Heaven, 
sir, I wash my hands of both of you!” 

“The marriage — when will it take place?” the young 
man asked. 

“Privately, and within a few days. Be prepared for 
anything. I have nothing more to say at present. Er — 
you need not expect me home to-night. I have business to 
attend to in Philadelphia.” 

He tapped the glass window to summon Billings, whose 
office adjoined that of his own, and when the cashier ap- 
peared he demanded the check-book. 

“Make a check for five thousand dollars,” he ordered, 
“payable to self, and get it cashed at once.” 

Billings obeyed, and half an hour later Jabez Alston was 
driven away in a private carriage. 


A FATHER'S THREAT. 193 

When he was gone Billings approached Edgar with a 
troubled face. 

“I hope that nothing is wrong, sir?” he ventured. 

“Why should you think so? I do not understand you.” 

“I have been with this house for twenty-nine years, Mr. 
Edgar, and never before knew the principal to draw a 
penny, much less fifteen thousand dollars, without satis- 
factorily accounting for it.” 

“Fifteen thousand dollars!” exclaimed Edgar. 

“Yes, sir ! And all within three days. ” 

“Well, I suppose my father can do as he pleases with 
his own money, Billings.” 

“Yes, sir, but it’s irregular — very irregular in a house 
like this.” 

He half turned to go away, and Edgar said, quietly: 

“Is that all that is on your mind, Billings?” 

“No, sir, not quite. The pass-book has just been sent in 
from Terhune’s Bank. There is an item of twenty thou- 
sand dollars which I know nothing of. It does not appear 
in the cash-book, and has been drawn against a counter 
check. I never knew Mr. Alston to use a counter check be- 
fore.” 

“Did you mention the matter to my father?” 

“No, sir; I did not discover it until he had gone. ” 

“Verify the signature at once, Billings, and say nothing 
to any one, ” Edgar concluded. “I am going away on im- 
portant business. If you have anything to communicate, 
telegraph home. ” 

Billings retired, and young Alston took a telegram from 
his pocket, which read as follows : 


194 


A FATHER’S THREAT. 


“If possible, see me at Twenty- third street to-day. I 
have a surprise for you. Hawley. ’ ’ 

“And I have news for you, my hoy!’’ Edgar muttered. 

He returned the crumpled telegram to his pocket, put on 
his hat, and left the office. 

A hundred steps through the street, and he hailed a cab 
that was just passing the corner, sprang in, and ordered 
the driver to take him to Hawley’s address in Twenty-third 
street. Arrived there, he dismissed the cabman and ran up 
the stairs to his friend’s apartments, two steps at a time. 

“Well, ’’ greeted Hawley, feverishly, “I have news at 
last. The detective has turned up!’’ 

“Hawkley?’’ 

“Yes, poor devil! Come here before daybreak this morn- 
ing, about half dead. It seems that he was waylaid by St. 
Leonards, sand-bagged, and left to die in a cellar. He ulti- 
mately freed himself, after nearly three days of helpless- 
ness, and is now on the war-path for vengeance ! But for 
this move on the part of the man who has so cleverly im- 
personated Lord St. Leonards the enemy would have been 
safely under lock and key. We have a desperate crew to 
deal with, but you know how much my fate depends upon 
their capture. ’’ 

“I suppose that you have no clew?’’ asked Edgar. 

“The whole lot have vanished as completely as though 
sw'allowed up by an earthquake. Oh, if they should 
get away after all, and I am tried for the murder of poor 
Stimson!” 

“We must hope for the best. It seems to me that the 
world is suddenly turning topsy-turvy,” Edgar replied. 
“No time must be lost, old man.” 


A FATHER’S THREAT. 


195 


“I am having every port watched and a general alarm 
has been sent to all the police stations in New York and 
Brooklyn. ’ ’ 

“I have news for you, ” Edgar remarked at length. “My 
father meditates matrimony.” 

‘ ‘ Good Heaven ! no ! ” 

“Yes, and there is some mystery about the bride-elect. 
None of us will be permitted to see her until the ceremony 
has been performed. If Minnie and I welcome the lady 
with open arms, my father promises each a fortune, and 
wdll never more interfere with our actions. He even ac- 
cepts you as his future son-in-law, providing you prove 
your innocence of the crime with which you are charged.” 

“The latter part is welcome news, anyway, ” Edward re- 
plied, with a faint smile. “But you don’t think the old 
gentleman is in his dotage, do you? Marriage at his time 
of life and mystery! Well, it never rains but it pours. 
You can’t afford to run counter to his wishes, because he 
will have his way all the same. Secure the cash, old man, 
or it may all go to the new wife. Now, to clear myself, 
and all will be straight sailing!” 

At that moment the door was pushed softly open, and 
Detective Nathaniel Hawkley appeared. 

“Gentlemen,” he said, “I . have heard a part of your 
conversation, and it has interested me greatly. We are on 
the eve of a great discovery. ’ ’ 

Edgar shook him warmly by the hand, saying : 

“Thank the fates that you escaped with your life. Hawk- 
ley.” 

i 

“It was a close shave, sir, but by Heaven, I’ll have a ter- 
rible revenge ! I have splendid recuperative powers, and 


196 


A FATHER’S THREAT. 


shall be as strong as ever in a few hours. I am like a 
tiger on the scent of blood. You are free of the enchant- 
ress forever?” 

‘ ‘ Forever ! Curse her ! ’ ’ 

Hawkley smiled. 

“Your father visited her to buy her off. I know this be- 
cause I saw him go to her apartments. ” 

Edgar flushed, and growled : 

“A needless expense! That perhaps accounts for the 
twenty thousand dollars Billings is troubled about! You 
know that the nest is empty, Hawkley?” 

“Mr. Hawley has told me everything. Now, sir,” — he 
bent closer to young Alston — “I overheard what you said 
of your father’s projected marriage and the mystery sur- 
rounding the bride. Do you know who the lady is?” 

“T haven’t the faintest suspicion.” 

“Then I will tell you; it is Isabel Russell. He has suc- 
cumbed to her witchery. This is the final coup of the 
gang. Of course, there will be no real wedding, but un- 
less we act promptly, they will be on the high seas with a 
good slice of your father’s fortune!” 

“Impossible!” gasped Edgar, aghast. 

The detective shrugged his shoulders, saying : 

“To that fiend there are few things impossible!” 

“Good Heaven, I believe that you have divined it! My 
father has gone to Philadelphia this morning. That is 
where they are hiding. He must be followed !” 

“Softly. lam going on no wild-goose chase. I must 
have proof. His is a well-known figure, and will not be 
hard to trace. Leave all in my hands until to-morrow, but 
be ready for action at any time. Gentlemen, I require 


A FATHER’S THREAT. 


197 


your assistance to procure a disguise. This time I am de- 
termined not to fail. Mitford Palmer, alias Lord St. 
Leonards, believes me to be safely out of the way, there- 
fore my movements will be unhampered. Ha ! ha ! I will 
run them to earth at last!” he hissed. 

The young men attended to his wants, and an hour 
later an old man, in the guise of a farmer, left Hawley’s 
apartments. 

Before the door closed he said, with a perfect Western 
twang : 

‘‘Wal, boys, I guess I’ll be along ag’in afore noon to- 
morrow.” 

So saying, he shambled down the stairs and into the 
street. 


198 


RUN TO EARTH. 


CHAPTER XVm. 

RUN TO EARTH. 

Minnie Alston heard the story that her brother had to 
relate that evening with tingling ears. 

“Oh, Edgar, it is too terrible!” she said. “There must 
be some mistake. I cannot believe that papa would be so 
silly — so weak. I have heard him speak many times in 
tones of withering contempt of men who have done some 
wrong for the sake of a woman. And, then, he is so old ! 
There must be some mistake, Edgar!” 

“I only hope that it may be so,” her brother replied. 
“Nevermind, sissy, he shall be rescued, and then he is 
entirely at our mercy ! Amid all these clouds there is a 
bright ray of sunshine!” 

He spoke cheerily, but his mind was filled with vague 
fears. The foolish old man’s life might be at stake. 

It was late before any news came from Billings, and 
consisted of a note delivered by a special messenger. It 
ran thus : 

“Dear Sir: — The check for twenty thousand dollars is 
in your father’s handwriting without a doubt. It is made 
payable to self or bearer, and was presented to the teller 
by a stranger two days since. Payment w^as refused, as 
the bearer failed to get identified. The following day the 
check came in again through the Union Bank of New Jer- 
sey. Upon examining the office check-book after you left 
to-day, I discovered that a blank check, numbered 2, 007, 
had been abstracted. No one except myself and the prin- 


RUN TO EARTH. 


199 


cipal has access to it, and Mr. Alston’s ways have been 
very strange lately. What is to be done? 

“Yours obediently, 

“John Billings.” 

While Edgar was pondering over this, Edward Hawley 
and a friend were announced; 

The friend proved to be Detective Hawkley still in his 
disguise as a farmer. 

“Any news?” demanded Edgar. 

“Not much,” replied Hawkley. “However, I have 
proof that your father did not go to Philadelphia to-day. 
After leaving you I telegraphed his description to every 
railway depot, and asked for his movements to be fol- 
lowed. No such person had reached Philadelphia up to six 
o’clock this evening. He has not gone there at all, Mr. 
Alston.” 

Edgar quietly handed him the note he had just received 
from Billings, and Hawkley whistled joyously. 

“New Jersey !” he whispered. “We’ve got it, sir. The 
whole game is as simple as A, B, C, and unless we hurry 
up, we shall be beaten ! I have no doubt that some kind of 
marriage ceremony will be performed, and that your 
father will be induced to present his bride with a check 
for a very large amount. The plan will then be to cash it 
and get away to Europe. I don’t want to alarm you need- 
lessly, Mr. Alston, but these people will not hesitate at 
murder!” 

“I am ready to act at once. How are we to discover 
their retreat?” 

“Let us away,” Edward Hawley put in, quivering with 
excitement. “Every wasted moment is torture to me. ” 

“In the first place, “Hawkley went on, “the number of 


200 


EUN TO EAETH. 


the check must he taken, and payment stopped. Your 
authority to the hank will he quite sufficient, Mr. Alston. 
Write the letter now, and mail it at once. This done, we 
will proceed to New Jersey. ” 

“To-night?” cried Hawley, delightedly. 

“To-night, gentlemen, and each must be armed with a 
six-shooter!” the detective replied, vigorously. “Kemem- 
her that we may have to face our foes in their lair, and 
all are desperate characters — Isabel Russell the most des- 
perate of all!” 

He sprang to his feet and savagely paced the floor. 
Never before had the young men seen him give way to so 
much excitement. 

In fifteen minutes the trio were in a carriage, and being 
taken to Twenty-third street ferry. 

“Gentlemen,” Hawkley said, “do not let me deceive 
“ you. If we succeed in discovering the hiding-place of Isa- 
bel Russell, Gilbert Roseherry, and Mitford Palmer, in 
attempting to capture them we shall carry our lives in 
our hands. I know these people, and they will fight like 
tigers. If you have any qualms of fear, do not hesitate to 
express yourselves, and I will obtain the aid of the police. 
I do not wish to do this if it can he avoided for the police 
are sure to blunder.” 

“Go right ahead!” ordered Edgar. “Remember that my 
father’s life may he in danger.” 

“And a murderer’s fate before me!” added Hawley, 
fiercely gripping his revolver. 

At Jersey City Hawkley questioned the hack-drivers 
who stood outside the Erie depot, and learned readily that 
an old gentleman had been a customer that morning. 


RUN TO EARTH. 


201 


“He’s been here three times, mister,” his informant 
said. “And Jim Maher drives him quite a long ways out.” 

“And where is Jim Maber’?’ demanded Edgar. 

This question was answered by the rattling of a dilapi- 
dated carriage, a loud “Whoa!” and the frame of bones in 
the shafts of the vehicle came to a halt. 

“Jim, yer wanted,” called one of his comrades. 

Jim advanced with a smirk. At the prospect of obtain- 
ing a handsome reward he became respectful. Yes, he had 
driven an old gentleman — a real gentleman he was, too — 
he had driven him to Ridgeway that very day. 

“Have you the street and the number?” demanded 
Hawkley. 

“Yes, mister.” 

The detective’s heart bounded with savage triumph. 

“Far easier than I expected,” he muttered to his com- 
panion. “By Heaven, she is run to earth at last!” Then 
aloud: “You must drive us to the same address at once. 
Here’s a ten-dollar bill. You shall have another when we 
reach our friend. And double that amount if you bring us 
back here in safety!” 

“I took the old gentleman to the top of Hawthorne 
avenue every time,” the hackman said, * but as he always 
seemed afraid of being seen, I followed him to-day to No. 
33. That’s where he stays. ’ ’ 

The party entered the carriage in grim silence, but the 
heart of each one was bounding with half subdued excite- 
ment. " 

It seemed a weary journey to Ridgeway, and occupied 
fully an hour. 


202 


BDN TO EARTH. 


At last the vehicle came to a stand-still, just as the clocks 
were chiming the midnight hour, and the driver said : 

“This is where the old gentleman always gets out. No. 
33 is about half-way down.” 

“Right!” responded Hawkley. “Stay here until we re- 
turn. Keep your eyes open, and if you see a policeman, 
tell him to follow us!” 

Hawthorne avenue appeared to he purely residental, and 
the houses were of a high, respectable appearance. They 
were all detached, and surrounded by handsome lawns 
and gardens. 

The occupants of all except No. 33 appeared to have re- 
tired for the night, and after motioning the young men to 
stand back. Detective Hawkley stole softly toward the 
front veranda, whence he could peer into a brilliantly 
lighted room beyond. 

One minute, and he returned to his impatient compan- 
ions, who were hiding in the shadow of a huge maple tree. 

“Mr. Alston,” he said. “Your father is there, and safe. 

I cannot see much through the slats of the blinds, but 

upon that you may rest satisfied. One thing is certain 

we have arrived in good time. Now for action ! It is just 
possible that Roseberry and Palmer are out. If so Isabel 
Russell and Roseberry ’s sister must be captured quietly 
and expeditiously. Then we will be in wait for the two 
male confederates. If we are faced by the whole of them, 
do not scruple to use your guns on the men. One minute 
and I will reconnoiter. I propose adopting the tactics of a 
burglar, and have with me the most modern appliances 
that human ingenuity can invent. You see, the profes- 
sional thief is so clever that he always manages to keep a 


RUN TO EARTH. 


203 


little ahead of those who try to guard the public safety. ’ ’ 

He took from the pocket of his coat a hag containing a . 
dozen ingenious contrivances made of wire, and tapped it 
significantly, then slid away like a shadow. 

Three — four — five minutes, and not a sound broke the 
intense silence. Suddenly a prelude was rippled over the 
keys of a piano, and then Queenie’s well-known voice fell 
upon the ears of the shuddering Edgar. 

Even now he had some difficulty in shaking oflt the 
witching influence of her presence ! 

“She is singing!” he whispered to Hawley, hoarsely. 
“Do you hear? Curse her! And that old man groveling at 
her feet!” 

“Let her sing!” hissed Hawkley, who had just returned 
to his companions. “Her squalling could not be more op- 
portune. I have known the time when that voice and that 
song would have lured me to ruin; but now I could 
strangle the notes in her false, white throat. Follow me ; 
every door is locked and barred, but an entrance can 
easily be effected by the wooden doors of the cellar in the 
rear of the house. Keep well in the shadow lest some one 
see us from one of- the windows. For years have I been 
waiting for this blessed moment!” 

They glided away, while the voice of the siren warbled 
like the notes of a happy bird. It was as sweet as the 
singing of angels in the celestial choir. 

It took but a few turns of Nathaniel Hawkley’s dexter- 
ous hands to unloosen the wooden bar that held down the 
doors of the cellar, and 'the trio disappeared into the gloom 
below. The detective ignited a silent match, and advised 
the young men to take off their shoes. 


204 


KUN TO EAKTH. 


The cellar was of the ordinary suburban pattern. In 
the center was a hot-air furnace, from the sides of which 
a dozen octopus-like arms clutched at every corner of the 
floor above. At one end there was a flight of wooden stairs 
that led to the kitchen. To these Hawkley pointed silently, 
and after a moment’s reflection said: 

‘ Tf the door at the top of the steps is fastened, I must 
work cautiously. As a rule these locks are of the flimsiest 
make. Do not utter a sound, gentlemen, and be prepared 
for any surprise.” 

He crept softly up stairs, listened a minute, and then 
turned the door-knob with his left hand, while his right 
firmly clutched a revolver. 

To his surprise and gratification the door yielded to his 
pressure, and he peeped into the kitchen. It was empty, 
but in the sitting-room beyond he fancied that he saw the 
shadow of a woman’s figure through the partially open 
door-way. 

Half a dozen cat-like steps, and he was bending over the 
sleeping form of Lucy Koseberry,. who had dropped asleep, 
her arms and head resting on a center-table. 

For one instant Hawkley regarded her with gloating 
eyes; then he pinioned her arms, and before she could 
utter more than a faint gurgling sound, she was helpless 
with a gag thrust between her teeth. 

At sight of the three men her eyes flamed with fear and 
fury, and she attempted to stamp on the floor, the result 
being that her feet were promptly bound to the chair in 
which she was sitting. 

“One sound,” hissed Hawkley, “and it shall be your 
last!” . 


RUN TO EARTH. 


205 


Satisfied that she could neither move nor cry out, he 
whispered to his companions: 

“I will face her alone! You keep watch here. If the 
man you know as St. Leonards appears, shoot him down 
as mercilessly as you would a mad dog!” 

He looked steadily at the young men, but there was a 
terrible glitter in his burning eyes. 

“We understand,” replied Hawley. “If you need help, 
a shout will bring us to you.” 

Queenie was still singing and playing, and Edgar Alston 
stood and listened like one in a maddening dream. 

With one glance at Lucy, whose deathly face was filled 
with the fear of an awful misery, the detective passed 
through the gilded alcove that led to Isabel’s parlor, and 
parting the heavy portieres, passed into the room. 

Even in that brief moment, Edgar Alston saw that which 
was photographed into his brain forever. His heart sick- 
ened within him, then a flood of fierce anger and disgust 
swept like a storm of fire through his brain. 

The curtains fell back into their place and the scene of 
his aged father fondling this accursed siren was hidden 
from his view. 

When Hawkley walked in, Isabel favored him with a 
smiling glance, and half turned from the piano, while 
Jabez Alston scrambled to his feet. 

“Er — who is this, my dear?” he demanded, with an 
assumption at dignity. 

“Only a friend of mine who is wonderfully clever in 
making up, you old darling.” 

Jabez Alston pressed one of her hands, while Isabel 
gazed critically at the figure before her. 


206 


RUN TO EARTH. 


“Is it really you or not, Gilbert?” she laughed. “What 
a splendid hayseed you make!” 

With a bitter laugh, Hawkley cast aside his shabby 
overcoat, the shoulders of which were padded into a huge 
lump. He flung his battered broad-brimmed hat to the 
floor, snatched away his wig and bushy whiskers and 
stood before her, tall and straight as a rod. 

“It is not Gilbert Eoseberry, Isabel Russell, but an 
avenger who has been on your track for years. Do you 
know me yet? My hair is whitened by your perfldy, but 
though a common policeman now — a policeman by choice 
for tlie sole purpose of running you and your paramour to 
earth — you may recognize in me a once successful and am- 
bitious lawyer — your legal husband — Arthur Holliday 
Russell!” 

He bowed mockingly. 

“Eh! What, sir?” thundered Jabez Alston, springing 
erect. “You have made a mistake, sir ! This lady is my 
wife ! She shall not be insulted by you ! Leave the room, 
or, old as I am, I will eject you ! Isabel, my queen, deny 
it all. The man is mad!” 

He passed one arnl about her, but she did not heed him. 
Her eyes were flxed upon the cruel and malignant face of 
Hawkley, in their depths a tigerish gleam, while her 
breath came and went in quick little gasps. The surprise 
had been so sudden — so unlooked for. She was completely 
at bay. 

“You lie!” she hissed. “You are not Lawyer Russell. 
His body was found in the river. Even if you are, what 
claim have you upon me?” 

“I am an officer of the law, ” he returned, in sibilant 


RUN TO EARTH. 


207 


tones, “and am here to arrest you on the charge of mur- 
der! Isabel Russell, you are my prisoner! You killed 
Stimson, the manager of the Frivolity.” 

Almost before he had ceased speaking, she sprang with 
the agility of a wild-cat to an escritoire, wherein was 
secreted a pistol. One swift movement, and it was pointed 
full at the heart of Detective Hawkley. 

“Curse you for a meddler!” she hissed, firing with 
deadly precision. “No mortal man shall stand in my 
path!” 

There was a sharp report, and Hawkley pitched to the 
carpet, a bullet in his breast, while Jabez Alston sank 
limp and helpless onto a lounge before the fiendish fury 
who towered before him in place of the beautiful Isabel 
who had bewitched him ! 

With one glance of withering contempt, she again raised 
the pistol, whispering, in a voice that sounded like a ser- 
pent’s hiss: 

“And you, you miserable old dotard! Why should I 
spare you to tell tales. I have fooled you to the top of your 
bent, equally as I fooled your son.” 

“Isabel!” he gasped, in abject fear. 

“Die! you maudlin old idiot!” 

Jabez Alston made a dive for the portieres, just as a 
bullet was embedded in the wall, and plunged into the 
arms of his son. 

With a bound, Edward Hawley reached the side of the 
frenzied woman and knocked the pistol from her hand. 

She flew at him with the fury of a tigress, • tearing his 
clothing and flesh with her teeth and fingers. The lovely 
witch was transformed into a she-devil ! At sight of the 


208 


BUN TO EAETH. 


young men she seemed to realize that the game was up, 
and fought until she sank helpless and exhausted to the 
floor, a bloody foam spurting from her lips. 


THE LAST OF THE SIREN. 


209 


CHAPTER XIX. 

THE LAST OP THE SIREN. 

Meanwhile, Edgar Alston was supporting the head of 
Hawkley on his knee, while a loud knocking and ringing 
of bells sounded in the hallway. 

“Open the door, ” Hawkley said, faintly. “The neigh- 
bors have heard the shots. Send for a doctor. I am dying, 
but don’t let yonder murderess cheat the gallows! The 
men — Roseberry and Palmer have gone — I was a little too 
late!” 

Jahez Alston staggered away at a sign from his son, and 
admitted a burly policeman, who gazed at the scene before 
him with bulging eyes. 

Behind him came the hackman and a few curious people 
who had been alarmed by the pistol reports. 

“Some one fetch a doctor,” cried Edgar Alston, authori- 
tatively. “This man has been shot. Policeman, keep the 
room clear.” 

Hawkley was lifted to a lounge, and an effort was made 
to stop the flow of blood. 

“It’s all over, gentlemen,” he said, smiling faintly. 
“She’s done for me at Ihst, but I don’t think that she will 
escape. The game’s up, and I am only sorry that I have 
missed Palmer and Roseberry. Promise that you will not 


210 


THE LAST OF THE SIEEN. 


give up the chase. They are waiting somewhere — possibly 
in New York — cleverly disguised, for the woman to join 
them. Great Heaven ! can it be that I am dying? How 
strange that I and that false woman should meet in this 
last tragedy!” 

His eyes were fast glazing, and before the doctor ar- 
rived, he was dead, his last words being : 

“Oh, Isabel, how I loved you in the golden days of the 
past, but now I loathe and curse you with my last 
breath!” 

She heard him, a smile on her white face ; and when she 
was assured that he would never speak again, her eyes 
flashed with savage satisfaction. 

“I always hated him,” she said, “and hate him even in 
death!” 

When the doctor came she regarded him deflantly and 
motioned him aside. 

“Your skill is useless here, ” she told him. “I am bleed- 
ing to death internally, and you know it.” 

“It is true,” was his reply, after a' brief examination. 
“You will be dead within an hour.” 

A bitter laugh left her lips. 

“Stand back and let me speak,” she said. “Let me speak 
while I have strength.” 

Jabez Alston was seated in a far corner of the parlor, 
his eyes covered with his hands. His humiliation was 
almost more than he could bear. 

“Don’t think,” continued Isabel, “that I am going to 
recant, or drop any maudlin tears. Had I listened to 
reason, I should now be on the high seas with the only 
man I ever cared for, Gilbert Roseberry. But I was not 


THE LAST OF THE SIHEN. 


211 


satisfied until I had eased yonder hoary-headed fool of a 
part of his wealth. Is it not wonderful to believe that the 
great Jabez Alston — the Wall street financier — the flinty 
hearted, hard headed old fossil — is it not wonderful to be- 
lieve that he was as plastic as clay in my hands?” 

She laughed mirthlessly, while he writhed in agony. 

“I made him love me — as I have made scores of better 
men, and to make sure of a goodly slice of his wealth, I 
have deluded him into the belief that I was his wife. We 
were married to-day by a sham priest, and my real hus- 
band, Gilbert Koseberry, witnessed the ceremony ! Great 
Heaven ! T believe that death is coming more quickly than I 
expected. Another hour would have seen me safely away, 
with the man I love, and yonder old dotard would have 
been but one more on the list of my dupes. Oh ! I curse the 
memory of — I curse the very soul of yon masquerading 
Hawkley with my last breath ! A hundred thousand dol- 
lars ! And I shall never enjoy it ! Oh, Gilbert, come back 
tome! Help! help!” 

She sprang up as though suddenly galvanized, then fell 
back, gasping: 

“That man”— pointing to Edward Hawley — “has done 
me no particular wrong. Let him not suffer for a crime of 
which I am guilty. I shot John Stimson — I shot him be- 
cause he believed that I had fooled him. Pshaw! he was 
not worth it. I killed him only for the sake of sealing his 
lips. He had known me in the past!” i 

Her voice became husky, and she suddenly clutched at 
her white throat, her 'very last words being : 

‘ ‘ Gilbert ! Gilbert ! The bounding seas ! My love forever ! ’ ’ 

“She is dead!” announced the solemn tones of the doc- 


212 


THE LAST OF THE SIREN. 


tor, as he covered the face, once so beautiful, hut now dis- 
torted by the agonies of death. 

“Terrible! terrible!” Edgar Alston whispered. “Come, 
father. This is no place for you. ’ ’ 

He led the old man to another room, while Hawley and 
the policeman searched the house. 

In one of the upper rooms there were evidences of com- 
plete preparations for disguise and flight, but no clew to 
the movements of Roseherry and Palmer. 

“It is pretty sure, sir, ” the policeman said, “that it was 
the woman’s intention to murder old Mr. Alston to-night 
and leave his body here.” 

They stumbled against another door in the passage, and 
as it was locked, the officer kicked it open. Here a terrible 
sight was revealed. Mitford Palmer, who had so cleverly 
personated Lord St. Leonards, lay stiff and stark in death. 
A white wig and spectacles had been tossed into one cor- 
ner of the room, hut he was wearing clerical attire. An 
examination showed a small bullet-hole in his left breast. 
There was little blood upon his clothing, and he had evi- 
dently been taken by surprise, for there were no evidences 
of a struggle. 

“That woman again!” the policeman suggested. 

“Or the man she favored, ” Hawley said. “They had 
reason to he jealous of each other, and this man was in 
the way of both. The truth may never he known, unless 
Roseherry is captured.” 

By this time several other policemen had arrived, and 
the house and Lucy Roseherry were left to their care. 

From the girl nothing could he elicited hut passionate 
sobs, and after being held for examination for two weeks. 


THE LAST OF THE SIREN. 213 

she was discharged to disappear into the great vortex of 
life. 

For a few days the sensation was intense. Two or three 
of the great new^spapers of New York devoted columns of 
imagination in describing the adventures of Queenie Rus- 
sell; and Jabez Alston, the financier, fled to Europe to live 
down the unenviable notoriety that had been thrust upon 
him. He w^as a broken-hearted and disgraced man. 

Though every effort was made to trace Gilbert Rose- 
berry, nothing more W’as ever heard of him, and his com- 
plete obliteration was considered one of the most marvel- 
ous on record. In police circles it was declared that he 
had committed suicide. 

Three months later there was a quiet home w^edding at 
the Alston mansion, and the pretty daughter of the finan- 
cier became Mrs. Edw'ard Hawley. 

Following this, it created little surprise in business 
circles when an official, announcement vras made that the 
reliable and prosperous old firm, which Jabez Alston had 
founded, had passed into the hands of two promising 
young men — his son, Edgar, and his - son-in-law, Edward 
Hawley. 

(THE END.) 



HiCKELjgATE. 

11ieNofl/ork.Chicago^^LouisRX 


SOLID 
THROUGH 
TRAINS 



Buffalo 0 GUcago 

i>i:ivi];vO 

THROUGH SLEEPING CARS 

Between CHICAGO, NEW YORK and BOSTON, 

BAGGAGE CHECKED TO DESTINATION. 

Tickets to all Points East or West at Lowest Rates. 

AT CHICAGO the Depot of the Nickel Plate 
Road Is located at Twelfth St. Viaduct, cor. 
Twelfth and Clark Sts., convenient by street 
car or elevated R. R. to any part of the city. 

AT CLEVELAND all trains stop at Euclid Ave. 
and Pearl St, and at Main Passenger Station 
Broadway near Cross St. 

AT BUFFALO trains run Into Union Depot of 
the Erie Railway. 

For rates and other information consult near.> 
est Ticket Agent, or address 

A. W. JOHNSTON. B. F. HORNER, 

Gen’l Sup’t. Gen’l Pass. Agt< 

CLEVELAND, OHIO. 

F. J. MOORE, Cen’l Agent, 

BUFFALO, N. Y. 





THE RHINE, THE 
ALPS AND THE 
BATTLEFIELD LINE.” 

The Famousf]^^ limited 

FAST FLYING VIRGINIAN 


Has No Equal Hetween. 

CINCINNATI new YORK, 

“Via "Washington, Baltimore, and Philadelphia. 
Vestibnled, Steam Heated, and Electric Lighted Tliroughout. 
THROUGH DINING CAR. AND COMPLETE PULLMAN SERVICE. 
THROUGH SLEEPERS TO AND FROM 


ST. LOUIS, CHICAOO AND LOUISVILLE. 

The most interesting historic associations and the most striking and 
fteantiful scenery in tlie United States are linked togetlier by the C. & O. 
System, which traverses Virginia, the first foothold of English settlers in 
America, wliere the Revolutionary War was begun and ended, and where 
the great battles of the Civil War were fought; crosses the Blue Ridge and 
Alleghany Mountains and the famous Shenandoah Valley, reaches the cele- 
brated Springs region of the Virginias, and lies through “the canons of New 
River, wliere the scenery is grand beyond description. It follows the banks 
of the Kanawha and Ohio Rivers, and penetrates the fanions Blue Grass 
region of Kentucky, noted for producing the greatest race-horses of the 
world. 

For maps, folders, descriptive pamphlets, etc., apply to Pennsylvania 
Railroad ticket offices in New York, Phila<#8lphia, and Baltimore, the prin- 
cipal ticket cffices throughout the country, or any of the following O. ds O , 
agencies : 

NEW YORK— 362 and 1323 Broadway; 

WASHINGTON— 613 and 1421 Penna. avenue? 

CINCINNATr— Corner Fifth and Walnut streets | 

LOUISVILLE- 253 Fourth avenue; 

ST. LOUIS -Corner Broadway and Chestnut street? 

CHICAGO— 234 Clark street. 

O. B. RYAN, Assistant General Passenger Agent, Cincinnati, O. 

H. W. FULLER. General Passenger Agent, Washington# X), Cl 


New York and New England 



Travelers between New York and Boston should alv’^ays ask for 
tickets via the. 

“NEW.ENGLAND LIMITED” TRAIN, 

Leaving either city 3.00 P. M. DAILY, including SUNDAY, due desti- 
nation 9.00 P. M. 

Buffet Smoker, Parlor Cars and Coaches. Dining Car between Boston 
and Willimantic. 

See that your tickets read via NEW YOBK and NEW ENGLAND and 
“AIR LINE” ROUTE. 



The Norwieh Line, 

INSIDE ROUTE. 


Steamers leave Pier 40, North River, New York, 5.30 P. M. week days 
only. Connecting at New London with Vestibuled Steamboat 
Express Train due Worcester 7.55 A. M., Boston 9.00 A, M. 


RETURNING, 

Train leaves Boston 7.15 P. M. week days only. Connecting at New 
London with Steamers of the Line due New York 7.00 A. M. 
Tickets, Parlor Car Seats, Staterooms on Steamers, and full infor- 
mation at offices, 

353 Broadway, ) 

Grand Central Station, >• NEW YORK. 

Pier 40, North River, ) 

322 Washington St., J T^ncsTnxr 

Station foot of Summer St., j 


GEO. F. RANDOLPH, General Traffic Manager, Boston. 
W. R. BABCOCK, General Passenger Agent. 

May 26 , 1896 . 


THE ROYAL BLUE LINE 


between i^ew York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Wash- 
{ agton, the South, and South-west is conceded to be 
\he BEST CONSTRUCTED and MOST FINELY 
V EQUIPPED RAILROAD in the country, 

THE OLD RELIABLE ROUTE 

i o all points in Interior Pennsylvania— Reading, 
\ larrisburg, Gettysburg, Pottsville, Shamokin, and 
' Williamsport. 

THE ROYAL ROUTE TO THE SEA. 

The Double Track Line between Philadelphia 
and Atlantic City. 


!• A. SWEIOABD, General Superintendent 

0. e. HANCOCK, General Passenger Agent 





FOR ALL PRINCIPAL POINTS IB 


MISSOURI, 

KANSAS, 

INDIAN TERRITORY 

TEXAS, 

MEXICO, 

CALIFORNIA. 

FREE RECLINING CHAIR CARS ON ALL TRAINS. 


rFlirough. Wagner Palace Onffet Sleeping Oars 
from the OREAT* to the 

OULE OE MEXICO, 


For further information call on or address your nearest 
Ticket Agent, or 

,J.^MES SA^IiKlEP, G. P. & 0* A., 

St. XjOuIs, 


_ There is little need of emphasizing the FACT that the 

Maine Central 
Railroad 

Has been the developer of Bar Harbor, and has made this incomparable summer 

home the 

Crown of the Atlantic Coast, 

AND 

The Natural Wonders of the White Mountains, 

The Wierd Grandeur of the Dixville Notch, 

The Quaint Ways and Scenes of Quebec, 

The Multifarious Attractions of Montreal, 

The Elegance of Poland Springs, 

The Inexhaustable Fishing if Rangeley, 

The Unique Scenery of Moosehead, 

The Remarkable Healthfulness of St. Andrews, 

Are all within contact of the ever-lengthening arms 
of the Maine Central Railroad. 

The Renowned Vacation Line, 

Or, to those who enjoy Ocean Sailing, the statement is made that the pioneer 
line along the coast of Maine, making numerous landings at picturesque points, 
almost encircling the Island of Mt. Desert is the 

Portland, Mt. Desert and 
Machias Steamboat Co. 

The New, Large and Luxurious Steamer, “ Frank Jones,” makes, during the 
summer season, three round trips per week between Rockland, Bar Harbor and 
Machiasport. 

Illustrated outlines, details of transportation, and other information upon ap- 
plication to 

F. E. BOOTHBY, PAYSON TUCKER, 

G. P. and T. Agt. Vice-Pres’t and Gen. Mgr. 

Portland, Mb. 




Ft. Wayne, Cincinnati, and Louisviiie Raiiroad. 

"Natnral Gas Route.” Tlie Popular SUort Liue 

BETWEEN 


•Peoria, Bloomington, Chicago, St. Louis, Springfield, Lafayette 
Frankfort, Muncie, Portland, Lima, Findlay, Fostoria, 
Fremont, Sandusky, Indianapolis, Kokomo, Peru, 
Rochester, Plymouth, LaPorte, Michigan 
City, Ft. Wayne, Hartford, Bluffton, 
ConnorsYille, and Cincinnati, making 

Direct Connections for aii Points East, West, North and South, 


THE ONLY LINE TRAVER<HNG 

THE GREAT NATURAL GAS AND OIL FIELDS 

r,)f Ohio and Indiana, giving the patrons of this Popular Route an 
(:>pportun4ty to witness the grand sight from the train as they pass 
rlhrough. Great fields covered with tanks, in which are stored millions 
of gallons of oil, Natural Gas wells shooting their flames high in th© 
air, and the most beautiful cities, fairly alive with glass and all kinds 
of factories. 

We furnish our patrons with Elegant Reclining Chair Car Seats 
Free, on day trains, and L. E. & W. Palace Sleeping and Parlor Cars, 
on night trains, at very reasonable rates. 

Direct connections to and from Cleveland, Buffalo. New York, 
Boston, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Pittsburg, Washington, Kansas City, 
Denver, Omaha, Portland, San Francisco, and all points in the United 
States and Canada. 

This is the popular route with the ladies, on account of its courteous 
and accommodating train officials, and with the commercial traveler 
and general public for its comforts, quick time and sure connections. 

For any further particulars call on or address any Ticket Agent. 

H. C. PARKER, CHAS. F. DALY, 

Traffic Manager, Gea’l Pass* dk Tkt. .Act* 

niBJANAPOIilS. INB, 


THE 

Delaware 

AND 

Hudson 
Hailroad. 

VUBlUfUiT DIREOT ROUTE TO THE GREAT 

IDIROmCi lOUNTAinS. 

Lake Gfeorge^ Lake Champlain^ Ansable Chasm^ the Adiron* 
dack Mountains^ Saratoga^ Bound; Lake^ Sharon 
Springs^ Cooperstown, Howe’s Cave, and the 
Celebrated Gravity Railroad between Carbon- 
dale and Honesdale, Ba., present the 
greatest Combination of Health and Pleasure Resorts in America* 

THE DIRECT UNE TO THE SUPERB SUMMER HOTEL ^ 
OF THE NORTH, 

“THE HOTEL CHAMPLAIN,” 

^Three Miles South of Plattsburgh, on Lake Champlain). 



The Shortest and Most Comfortable Route 
Between New York and Montreal. 

In Connection with the Erie Railway, the most Picturesque 
and Interesting Ronte between Chicago and Boston. 

She only throngh Pnllman Line. 


Inclose Six Cents in Stamps for lUnstrated Guide to 

H C. YOUNC, J. W. BURDICK, 

Sd Vioe-PreBident, Oea’l Paas. Aaent, Albany, 9. 


QK/IND TRUNK 


AND 

QHIC/IQO ^ QR/INb tKUNK 
K/IILWflTS. 


^ Form the most Popular Route to the West, 

Combining every Comfort and Luxury. 

PULLMAN AND WAGNER SLEEPERS ON ALL TRAINS. 


Solid Vestibuled Pullman 
Dining and Sleeping Car Trains 

Through from New York to Chicago without change. 
Choice of route from 


NEW YORK TO 


NIAGARA FALLS, SUSPENSION BRIDGE, 
TORONTO, DETROIT, PORT HURON, CHICAGO, 

And the West, Northwest, and Southwest via 


The Celebrated St. Glair Tunnel, 

Which connects Canada and the United States, and is the 
greatest submarine tunnel in the world. 

The Grand Trunk Railway is justly celebrated for its Fish- 
ing and Hunting Resorts, as on and contiguous to it are the 
greatest grounds in the civilized world, among them being the 

Muskoka Lakes, St. Lawrence River, Thousand 
Islands, Lake St. John Region, White 
Mountains, Androscoggin 

And many others too numerous to mention. 

For information apyly to office of Grand Trunk Railway at Boston, Mass. ; 
Portland, Me. ; Montreal, P. Q_. ; Toronto, Ont. ; Buffalo, N. Y. ; Detroit 
Mich., and ’ 


N. J. POWER, Gen’I Pass’r Agt., L. J. SEAROEANT, Gen’l Mang’r, 

MONTREAL.. R. Q. MONTREAL., R. Q, 

FRANK P. DWYER, E. P. Agt. C. & G. T. Ry., 

2T3 BROADWAY, NEW YORK. 


GISMOND A. 

BY 

VICTORIEN SAEDOU. 


A Novelization of the Celebrated Play, 

By jA. id. HAlLB 


ThQ New TorTc TToridsays: To “dramatize*' a novel is common work; 
to “novelize” a play comparatively rare. The latest in this line is “Gis- 
mouda,” in which Miss Fanny Davenport has been so successful, and Mr, 
A. D. Hall has told the story in a very interesting manner. 

Philadelphia Press: The story is an interesting one, and with a plot 
quite out of the common. 

Portland Oregonian : A story that holds the interest. 

Denver Republican : The characters are exceedingly well depicted. 
“Gismonda” will prove a favorite with the novel-reading public, and be- 
come one of the popular books of the season. 

Philadelphia Item : The kind of book which one sits over till he has 
finished the last word. It is a clever piece of literary work. 

New Orleans Picayune : It is needless to say, as it is Sardou’s creation, 
that it is of Intense interest. 

Buffalo News : A vivid and powerful story. 

Brooklyn Eagle : The ampliflcntion into the novel is done by Mr. A. D- 
Hall. who presents a full and interesting picture of modern or rather me. 
dieval Greece. The plot is quite original. 

Milwaickee Journal : While its situations are dramatic, it is by no 
means stagy. 

Albany Argus : We have every reason to believe that the excellent 
novelization will achieve i)opularity. 

Boston Traveler : It has basis for great interest. 

Syracuse Herald : The “novelizator” seetns to have acquitted himself 
fairly well, and to have transformed the play into a highly romantic story. 

Burlington Hawkeye : Excellent novelization, and without a dull mo- 
ment from' beginning to end. 

Detroit Tribune : As the play has been a success, the novel will un- 
doubtedly prove one also. The story has a unique plot, and the characters 
are well depicted. 

Albany Times- Union : No play produced during the past year has 
made such an instantaneous and overwhelming success as that of “Gis- 
monda.” and we liave every reason to beli<^ve tliat the excellent noveliza- 
tion will achieve the same measure of popularity. 


is No. 1 of “Drama Series,” for sale by all 
Newsdealers, or will be sent, on receipt of price, 26 cents, to any address, 
postpaid, by STREET & SMITH, 25-31 Rose St., New York. 



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MORE OF BERTHA M. CLAY’S NOVELS ARE SOLD THAN 
OF ANY OTHER AUTHOR. 


Bertha M. Clay’s Novels 

The majority of these novels are copyrighted and can 
be had only in the Clover Series. Paper, 25 cents. Cloth, 
one dollar. 

17 — ^For a Woman’s Honor (new). By Bertlia M. Clay. 

18 — A Heart’s Bitterness. By Bertlia M. Clay. 

19 — A Heart’s Idol. By Bertha M. Clay. 

20 — The Gipsy’s Daughter. By Bertha M. Clay. 

21— In Love’s Crucible. By Bertha M. Clay. 

22— Marjorie Deane. By Bertha M. Clay. 

23— Gladys Greye. By Bertha M. Clay. 

24 — Another Woman's Husband. By Bertha M. Clay. 

25 — Violet Lisle. By Bertha M. Clay. 

26— Fair, but Faithless. By Bertha M. Clay. 

27 — Another Man’s Wife. By Bertha M. Clay. 

28 — Between Two Hearts. By Bertha M. Clay. 

29— ’Twixt Love and Hate. By Bertha M Clay. 

30 — A Woman’s Temptation. By Bertha M. Clay. 

31 — Beyond Pardon. By Bertha M. Clay. 

32 — Put Asunder. By Bertha M. Clay. 

33 — Between Two Loves. By Bertha M. Clay. 

34 — Under a Shadow. By Bertha M. Clay. 

35 — The Earl’s Atonement. By Bertha M. Clay. 

36 — Repented at Leisure. By Bertha M. Clay. 

37 — Weaker than a Woman. By Bertha M. Clay. 

38 — Doi’a Thorne. By Bertha M. Clay. 

39 — A Golden Heart. By Bertha M. Tlay. 

40 — A Mad Love. By Bertha M. Clay. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent 
postage free on receipt of price, by the pubHshers. 

STREET & SMITH, 

25 to 31 Rose Street, New York. 


on:oiOE> ivovE>r^{s 

BY 

The Author of Dr. Jack. 

These novels are copyrighted and can be had only in 
the Criterion Series. Paper, 50 cents. 

2. Dr. Jack. 

BY ST. GEORGE RATHBORNE. 

3. Dr. Jack’s Wife. 

BY THE AUTHOR OF DR. JACK. 

4. Miss Pauline of New York. 

BY THE AUTHOR OF DR. JACK. 

5. Captain Tom. 

BY THE AUTHOR OF DR. JACK. 

6. Miss Caprice. 

BY THE AUTHOR OF DR. JACK. 

7. Baron Sam. 

BY THE AUTHOR OF DR. JACK. 

8. Monsieur Bob (aew edition), 

BY THE AUTHOR OF DR. JACK. 

9. The Colonel by Brevet (new edition), 

BY THE AUTHOR OF DR. JACK. 

10. Major Matterson of Kentucky 

BY THE AUTHOR OF DR. JACK. (new edition). 

\ 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent 
postage free on receipt of price, by the publishers. 

STREET & SMITH, 

25 to 31 Rose Street, New York. 




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